Actually it became quite a nice day after this rain shower had done its thing. But at this point in time, those with brollies were grateful of them. Those without — like myself — well, we just had to make do.
R. I. P. Marjorie Willetts, Clare’s grandmother, who died two weeks ago aged 93 and who was buried today in Morecambe.
Difficult to know how, or even whether, to represent such an event on here but this picture largely sums it up for me. There is a splash of colour but otherwise the day was rather grey and sombre.
(For the last picture of Clare and her Gran, see here…)
Adding insult to the profound sense of incompetence hanging over England at the moment, the weather conforms to all the worst stereotypes about an English summer.
I’ve lived in Britain my whole 46.8 years and it amazes me that there are still people who somehow believe that our month of June is somehow high summer. There are sound climatic reasons why this is not the case, it’s called the ‘European Monsoon’ or ‘Return of the Westerlies’. Look it up. The Westerlies sure bloody returned today I can tell you.
Much as I like many things about Bergen, it is the rainiest city in Europe. This picture was taken in the foyer of the university library this lunchtime. It rained all day, which explains why there are no photos of this morning’s eclipse despite Bergen experiencing 98% totality at about 10.50am. It did get very dim, but not a hint of sun (obscured or otherwise) was to be seen. Ah well, never mind — I have bagged an eclipse before. Maybe next time.
There has been no weather for days now. No rain, no sun, no real clouds even, just this grey pall stuck over the world. Worst possible photography light. So here we are, with the help of some artificial illumination here’s today’s shot of a pub — you’ll be thinking I spend all my time in these places. *cough*
Irony warning…. I don’t mean to suggest it was like this all day, just this one heavy shower, but this is the only place I have seen rain in the whole 8 weeks I’ve been here, including in New Zealand.
Tolerable weather this morning so I left home without any equipment. On the two-mile walk back from my office to the railway station, I decided happiness would have been a small frame of wire with some synthetic material stretched over it, even if it had been red with black spots and had two comedy eyes poking up from the top. I’m still damp now, several hours later.
Being 42 