After the storm….a 12 second sequence…
In the photos I almost see the beginnings of a rainbow. We get them often, but yesterday it did not happen.
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The return of warm weather prompted Grant to open up the air vents but we are more likely to be using heaters than air conditioning in the coming week.
Friends coming from England will not be pleased with what is on offer, I fear.
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With such a shortfall in tourism, you might expect to find bargain prices but it appears hotels and restaurants are seeking to recover their losses by raising prices.
From the little checking I’ve done, it’s hard to see how restaurants can hope to survive charging such high prices for food that is little more than ordinary. It’s a very bad time for that industry.
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Despite severe weather warnings, this one was not all that impressive or noisy, though it was certainly quite a soaker!
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We were quite glad the little foxes had an easy introduction to the phenomenon. Perhaps when we get a noisy storm, it will be less frightening for them!
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Mrs Groundhog kept nibbling till the deluge chased her under cover of the hedge.
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But she was soon back looking a little bedraggled, once the rain stopped.
Keen to get on with her cauliflower.
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Little Man approves of open windows.
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Watching everything with great interest.
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Heavy rainfall invigorates me. It awakens memories of SE Asian monsoons.
Whereas in England, rain was a dreary, grey and miserable, half-hearted thing that penetrated nastily with cold fingers, a tropical downpour was fun.
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I used to run out onto the veranda where the scorching hot tiles were now just delightfully warm to my bare feet.
(Mariella, our housemate and Mum)
(Phnom Penh, 1957)
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Best of all was coming home from school in a cyclo-pousse when the heavens opened.
The top was raised and there was a cover for the front but I still got soaked.
Warm rain ain’t the same as cold!
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Having said this, there were times, even in Asia, when it got cold enough that you needed a sweater, though you didn’t need to go as far as thermal underwear.
Once, while I was at boarding school in Dalat which was in the highlands of South Vietnam, we actually had a brief snow shower which was so rare everyone had to go outside to see it.
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There, I wore two sweaters and thought I felt cold.
That was before going back to England for the coldest winter in decades and shivering in my attic dorm room where the pipes used to freeze.
Now that was cold.
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My dislike of the cold then, came from the fact that I was never able to get warm. Heating was inadequate and constant dampness made me miserable.
On Saturdays, I was allowed out and went to a little teashop which was the closest thing to warm I could find. There I sat thawing out over a cup of Horlicks.
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Later on I came to love cold weather and I don’t mind at all feeling cold when I know there is a warm house to retreat to.
Most things are bearable if you know there is an end in sight.
Thank you, Carolyn, for the nostalgic memories, the stunning pictures of the sky before and after the heavy rain, your beautiful wildlife, the Little Man, and your excellent philosophical thoughts that one has to remember: “Most things are bearable if you know there is an end in sight.”
Joanna
I remember experiencing ‘warm rain’ in Singapore. It was actually delightful, and though torrential, it was over almost as soon as it started. Good to see the ‘ groundhog gang’ enjoying the food.
Best wishes, Pete.
It is such a regular conversation between my wife and I: she – it’s boiling hot, do you really need all those layers on? Me – yes.
It never varies…
Well, I thought I’d commented on this, but there’s nothing to show… maybe I will turn up anonymously (again!) I am almost always cold . The grandkids love to count the number of layers grandad is wearing in the sunshine…
I think Little Man is planning a road trip!
Good insight there – Misery is when you have no control and no end in sight.