June

[Sweder]

Recipe of the day - Ingedients:

1 lardy plodder
5 mile hilly trail
1 partly cloudy sky
A soupcon of sunshine
Cool westerly breeze (easy)
Soft rolling green hills

Instructions:
Soak hills overnight in steady, gentle rain
Allow to blend
Soundtrack optional

Back to back hilltop boogies for the first time in a long time.
With an unhealthy trip to Amsterdam on the horizon I thought it prudent to bank an extra run. The legs didn't seem to mind; in fact I'd say it was one of my better showings for a while, under 45 minutes including a pause to admire the view from the summit. That steady, gentle overnight rain, so reminiscent of late summer nights in Macroom, left the turf wonderfully springy, adding a bounce to my tread that belied my lardy frame. There was youth in my stride and a smile on my face as I ran, dogs in close attendance. Ma Nature had her glad rags on and no mistake. The last of the spring lambs gambolled close to mother, stopping to stare in wide-eyed wonder at our mangy troup as we scurried past. One of the fattest magpies I've ever seen watched us approach his gate-top perch, reluctantly flap-hopping off at the last minute, his beady black eye casting a scournful glance at the passing interlopers.

Fair to say I've a thing for clouds. The Stranglers said that Sweden was the 'only country where the clouds are interesting'. I get the point but I have to disagree. Perhaps my formation fascination harks back to the dark days of the late '70's when pharmacuetical enhancements were de rigeur; who's to say? All I know for sure is that when I turned to the west this morning the vista opened up to reveal tales of a monstrous steam-beast, a leviathan locomotive hauling it's load away into the north east, across the Sussex plains, up and over the far peaks of the north downs. Great plumes of dirty white smoke trailed in its wake, growing in height and depth as they dissipated on the breeze, starting as a thin, concentrated line where the engine had crossed the horizon to billow a thousand feet high overhead.

Every day a different story, no two clouds the same. Let your mind wander and the images flood in, free-forming, wondrous sky movies, no subscription required. An hour after my plod the heavens opened, great sheets of rain dousing the garden, thrashing oxygen into the fish pond; nature's jetwash.
Nice work Ms Nature