It’s been an unusually mild and wet autumn so far…
The soft rain makes art out of a humble fence
And turns a bench into a diamond-studded wonder.
And best of all, it lends beauty
To the graceful head of a flower:
Reminding us that bowed is not defeated
And that the best thing to do when it rains
Is to let it.
For more grace, please visit: Our World.
I’ll be England by the time you read this
(So won’t be visiting you all as frequently as usual).
My sister has warned me that there will be plenty of rain.
Weather aside, I’m sure there will be plenty of time for play and laughter –
As long as we remember that we all carry a piece of sunshine within.
Make each day your masterpiece. — John Wooden
For more sunny side up posts, please visit: Our World.
It has rained and rained
And then rained some more.
The flowers don’t seem to mind.
And there is nothing as refreshing as air and plants
And glittering with small diamond drops.
And after the rain, these masters of camouflage come out:
Much maligned creatures, but also a part of nature.
And look — so pretty too!
For more refreshing pictures, please visit: Our World.
And Lisa’s Macro Monday.
It is a flower’s nature to bloom.
The same thing could be said of people
If we give them enough
I’m away all weekend, so won’t be able to visit you.
But thank you – once again – for your visit!
Midsummer is one of the biggest holidays in Sweden. It’s all about eating and dancing around the maypole. Usually in the rain.
One year, I’m going to photograph it all… But this year, we spent so long at the pool before lunch that we just didn’t have the energy to go down to the local celebrations.
We did celebrate the light, the warmth and the sun in our own way.
Life may not always be a dance on roses, but that doesn’t stop you from dancing in a shower of rose petals.
It’s all about your attitude.
You can complain that roses have thorns.
Or you can rejoice that thorns have roses.
For more midsummer (or midwinter) beauty, please visit: Our World.
Last week, we had a glorious rain storm. And afterwards, there were rainbows everywhere.
So, I took my camera out to look for some.
I found a string of glittering pearls;
And soft silver veils of clouds.
I even found the silver lining that everyone talks about
In the form of delicious sunbeams.
I enjoyed the dramatic beauty of the rain clouds
But no matter how hard I looked, I didn’t find any rainbows.
The moral of the story is: Don’t get too caught up in looking for life’s rainbows
Or you might miss out on the beauty of its storms.
For more stories. please visit: Skywatch.
Shining like mother of pearl
A painting of fleeting delicacy
Poised to fly to freedom
Through the silver rain –
Reminding me that joy comes when you least expect it
And that transformation can lead to great beauty.
Sadly, My World is not continuing but I’d like to continue documenting the small unseen miracles of life here anyway. Rest in peace Klaus Peter.
Summer is here in all its glory.
And that, of course, includes the soft summer rain
Bringing a chill with it that makes us appreciate the sun even more.
Just as a flower is thankful for the rain,
So am I thankful for all the small beauties that surround me.
Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.
- Rabindranath Tagore
For more beauty, please visit: My World.
My bags are packed and soon – I hope – I will be enjoying the enormous canvas of the English sky
And the golden sight of the rolling Sussex Downs.
My optimism is tinged with a little fear as a volcano in Iceland has inconveniently erupted
And may cause chaos and cancelled flights.
And that would be a bitter disappointment because family awaits in England
Including a sister I haven’t seen in four years.
So, fingers crossed we achieve lift off in order to enjoy
The joys of family, a country where the chimneys, like the people, are eccentric -
And who knows? We might even enjoy a little rain.
After all, this is England we’re talking about!
For more eccentric skies, please visit: Skywatch!
I have a couple of posts scheduled for you to enjoy while I’m away. But do forgive me in advance for not visiting you all in the next week.
Do you remember the joys of childhood rain –
How it used to call out your name as it thundered down
In a deafening chorus of music?
Rain was always warm back then
When it sounded like a silver lullaby
And strung the trees with its musical bells.
Even now it calls out my name
Asking me to join my childhood self with my daughter
As we twirl and dance in the rain.
For more rainy music, please visit: My World.
This is part of Jillsy’s Childhood Challenge too. Check it out!
Springter is that time of year when spring and winter compete to see who is going to rule the weather.
One day the sun is shining and spring is shaking loose with a rainbow of melting snow.
The next day, winter is back with a vengeance – fresh snow and ice make art out last autumn’s leaves
Still clinging to the trees in a display of perseverance.
A bud tries to unfurl but is caught there between seed and flower
Between spring and winter
Between hope and promise.
To get away from my icy pictures, please visit: My World!
(Don’t know about you – but I think this pretty much describes middle age too.)
Quick greetings from Blighty! Mmm.. I wonder why England is sometimes called that? Anyone know?
The rain that was promised is here … with a vengeance. In fact, severe rains and storms are battering Wales and parts of England, people have been seen floating off in their cars waiting to be rescued and our landing at Gatwick Airport yesterday resembled vigorous jumping on a trampoline. I realize that my thin raincoat is useless – full diving gear would be more suitable.
High tea is on the menu tomorrow … if we can get through the streams that were once roads.
But right now / the kids are calling me to join them in a late/night pyjama party!
Well, folks, I hate to leave you – but I am popping over to England today and will be away until the middle of next week.
As you know, we British are famous for our high teas. That means eating dainty little finger sandwiches – usually cucumber or egg and cress – with the crusts cut off. They look good but are hardly enough to fill even a sparrow’s belly.
Naturally, this means lots of room left for other goodies: like chocolate éclairs, or a simple Victorian sponge cake.
All washed down with lashings of tea.
Still, I don’t expect that any of this is actually on the menu on my visit to the folks back home.
What I do expect is:
- Rain – and lots of it! I’ll be scurrying around borrowing raincoats, wellies and umbrellas.
- Feeling cold. The British have a wonderful ventilation system known as ‘draughts’. These are currents of air that come into people’s houses because windows and doors do not fit their frames, and because insulation is something for the future.
- Damp. That always makes me feel cold. And it’s damp because it rains a lot. Did I mention that already?
- Having a wonderful time with my family. It’s been a while since we last met!
So, check back again in a few days’ time.
Until then, go for a long invigorating walk, laugh a lot and make sure you eat a high tea or two.
Went out for a walk with the dog this morning. It was raining – gloriously tipping it down: not a drizzle or regular rain – but lovely skin-drenching, torrential rain.
It took me a few minutes to throw on some suitable clothes – a rain jacket, rain trousers, walking boots and a once-white woolly hat to top off the look!
Half an hour later, my gear has reached saturation point. The jacket begins to drizzle inside, and the rain trousers have begun to let the rain in so that now my jeans are wringing wet. I stop and savour the feeling of dripping wet cloth as my jeans cling to my legs. I shake my arms and laugh as I feel the cool drops rush down my arms. The forest paths have been turned into mini-streams of swirling water, and the dog is thoroughly enjoying himself as he splashes along them and down into ditches that now resemble streams.
It is all too tempting, so I throw my inhibitions to the wind and jump into the nearest ditch! The water comes in over my shoes and floods my feet. I wiggle my toes in order to enjoy the delicious sensation of rain between them. I laugh and run and can hear my feet squelching inside my shoes. No wonder children hop into puddles at every opportunity.
I rip off my hat and let the rain drench my hair into wet tendrils, shower my face and then gush down the inside of my jacket, starting on the back of my neck. I am exhilirated by the feeling of cold water rushing down my neck and back.
A small hole in the seat of my rain trousers joins in the fun and starts letting cold drops of rain in. They trickle onto the backside, making sure it is thoroughly, gloriously, splendidly wet. I giggle with glee and start skipping home.
I hope it rains again tomorrow.
It took me 20 minutes to get geared up to meet the weather – on with the rain jacket, rain trousers, desperate search for the Gore-Tex walking boots and a once-white woolly hat to top off the look!
Half an hour later, my gear has reached saturation point. The jacket begins to drizzle inside, and the rain trousers have given up their rain-combating duties to let the rain in so that now my jeans are wringing wet. As the forest paths have been turned into mini-streams of swirling water, my left shoe has now gone from being Gore-Tex to Bore-Tex and I find myself squelching along with a shoeful of rain.
The dog is clearly enjoying himself as only a water-loving working Golden can. My thoughts start rambling: wouldn’t it be great if I had a pair of trousers made from all the hair the dog sheds! Then I could wear it on rainy days and just shake myself off in true canine fashion when getting home. Mind you, they would probably be the only trousers in the world from which I would have to remove ticks…
I am brought sharply back to reality by a persistent trickle of water that has found its way into a miniscule hole on the seat of my trousers. My backside is now totally wet.
Don’t know why I bothered showering this morning.