Monday 18 July 2011

Probably Another of Aine's Jokes.

The day being dry, if cloudy and a little cool, I spent most of the afternoon in the garden and then went for a walk. Half way along Mill Lane the heavens opened. I had a light raincoat on, but it’s really only shower proof; it isn’t up to the job of coping with God’s attempt to re-float the Ark. I wasn’t pleased, but I looked at my female companion and she laughed, so I saw the funny side, too.

The heavens stayed open. Soon the sides of the lanes turned into torrents, and then parts of their whole width became lakes, small lakes but too big to jump over. So I waded. I wasn’t dressed for wading. And the worst bit was the coldness of the water, which isn’t surprising since the airflow is coming from the Arctic Circle at the moment. No doubt the rain was part of an Icelandic glacier yesterday. When it first penetrated my cotton chinos, about ten seconds after the storm started, it stung, you know? Really stung.

At least ten cars must have driven past me during the forty minute ordeal. I tried to look miserable, but none of them stopped and offered me a lift. I suppose they didn’t want something sopping wet getting into their tidy, dry cars and dripping water onto the carpets and upholstery. I wondered whether they would feel guilty later; I wondered whether I would have stopped for somebody in that situation.

The rain ceased completely about three minutes after I got home. And the sun came out. Right.

No comments: