on the weekend

 We sped off down West this weekend and in a wonderfully unexpected turn of events the rain clouds departed for two whole days so that we could enjoy some fun in the sun. 

What a life, eh?

 We've had huge amounts of rain recently and so the blue skies were a little miracle. And it was so quiet everywhere, as if no one else had dared to venture to those seaside parts on a bank holiday what with the torrential rain and low temperatures of the last few weeks.

 

 It was a lazy, wandering, paddling, tree-house-climbing kind of weekend and everything seemed bright, almost hyper-real, the grass so green, the blossom so pink. Just beautiful.

 I started to re-read Tove Jansson's The Summer Book. It must be a decade since I read it last. Maybe longer.

“I can dive", Sophia said. "Do you know what it feels like when you dive?"
Of course I do," her grandmother said. "You let go of everything and get ready and just dive. You can feel the seaweed against your legs. It's brown, and the water's clear, lighter towards the top, with lots of bubbles. And you glide. You hold your breath and glide and turn and come up, let yourself rise and breathe out. And then you float. Just float."

― Tove Jansson, The Summer Book  

 And now we're home and the rain is back, sweeping constantly past the window. Time to light the fire and put my cardi on I think.