It has been very wet. Apparently, April -- not generally known as a dry month -- was the wettest April on record. Parts of the country that started the month officially in drought are now officially in whatever the opposite of "drought" is. Ah, well: "English weather unpredictable but quite wet" is hardly a headline, though of course it has been precisely that for most of the last month.
I'd like to say I've been busily photographing nonetheless, striding weather-booted through the plashy fen in my waterproof gear, but that is not the case. "Staying home to watch the rain" has been more like it, and never have the lyrics of "Time" on Dark Side of the Moon seemed more relevant.
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time.The sun reappeared this week, though, so it's "get back to work, ye swabs!" for my rusting cameras.
Plans that either come to naught, or half a page of scribbled lines.
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way...
2 comments:
I am bewildered whenever I catch a performance by one the new generation of weather forecasters. They get so excitable about the bleedin' obvious.
Martin,
well, that's young people for you... No sense of perspective.
Mind you, I wouldn't object to still getting a thrill out of the bleedin' obvious. Do you know this old joke, an exchange between two old geezers sitting on a park bench:
OG1: 'Ere, Bert, do you remember them pills they give us during the War, to take our mind off girls?
OG2: I do!
OG1: Well, I fink they're beginning to work.
Mike
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