How is it possible that the pond by the sheep fields can look so glorious when the sun is shining and so… so… yeah, wet when it’s raining?
I could try to describe how I feel after several days of miserable rain, but when Longfellow sums it up quite nicely, why not just let him take center stage?
The Rainy Day, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
Marilyn’s comment after yesterday’s post was bang on when she said, “”It’s all depressingly sodden.” Apparently, her dogs are about as impressed with this sort of weather as mine!
If you’ve been reading the blog recently you’ll know what I mean when I say the cow refused to come out of my pocket. Just how wet was it? I very nearly needed to bury my phone in a bowl of rice after risking its circuit boards (or whatever is actually inside a phone these days) by snapping a few photos.
Yuck. Enough already. According to the forecast on the same phone, three days of mostly sun are heading our way. Bring it on because I can tell you I am well and truly weary of these days so dark and dreary…
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