Early summer rain has to be one of my favourite weathers. The countryside and nature needs rain, yet in the last decade or so wet summers seem a distant memory. My own memory may be playing tricks but childhood summers always seemed wet. Sure the summers of 1975 & 1976 were hot, dry and endless but that aside, long days in wellingtons and waterproofs seemed to proliferate my school holidays. The summer of 1977 we bought a puppy, it rained, it rained and it rained. That Bedlington terrier never again enjoyed wet days. But I do. Memories make the the man and my recollections bring me joy. Walking through long wet grass. Sitting by rivers swollen with brown foaming water. Raindrops falling deep inside a broadleaved woodland. Cool days with mist skirting the tops of hills. Lying on the caravan sofa listening to rainfall on the tin roof. Most of all the aromas. Grass, soil, moisture, freshness, all aromas that in recent years have escaped me. And the greens. A dull summer day like today highlights as many greens in the landscape as days in the year. As I type this, the rain continues to fall heavily. I love it, may it continue all summer.
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