Weather

This morning more rain’s forecast, but instead of the grey overcast of Saturday morning, the sun beams through holes in almost motionless clouds. It’s one of those stand-offs between northerly and southerly weather that, before the age of reason, men would have described as a duel between two animate beings; gods who, with appropriate support – supplication and sacrifice - from puny mortals, might give more or less attention to ensuring one or the other prevails. That fallacy gave men the feeling they might, with luck, influence the weather. As pseudo-science goes I prefer that to our real attempts to alter weather, let alone those we don't intend. I admire and respect meteorology as a science, but when it comes to human weather control my thoughts turn to the beneficial threat of chaining meddlers to a rock for eagles to gnaw their livers. ‘Better’ or ‘worse’ weather is of course a matter of opinion. I saw Sally yesterday, who with others had rejoiced at the cooler temperature, clear skies and pleasant breezes that came with our arrival. “The rain was good?” I imagined parched fields soaking up water encouraging new grass for her cooled horses. “Not really” She looked rueful. Ah. Tactless of me. “People cancelled their riding?” “Uhuh” she said. I thought ‘what wimps!’ A ride in the rain amid cool dripping greenery would have been a pleasure. “Not for me” said Lin later, and Val who’s come from windy winter in New Zealand yearns for sun.