What is with our weather? We have had almost two seasons in one weekend.
On Saturday morning I woke to sunshine and heat and what an August day should feel like. I took my tea and toast into the garden and sat relishing in the warmth and the sunshine. I looked up into the bright blue sky and witnessed the migration of hundreds of fairies. As I felt the gentle warm breeze on my face I strained my eyes to the top of the sky seeing more and more delicate wishes taking a journey, some flying higher and faster than others. I thought of the many dreams and wishes that would be made following a successful capture of a fairy, children wishing for new toys, for someone to be their best friend or perhaps that their first day of school wouldn't be too scary. I then thought of the grown ups who still catch fairies and believe in making wishes, grown ups like me, who wish for love, friendship, happiness and solutions. As I walked down the garden I rescued fairies who had been caught in the long grass and spiders webs, I thought by giving flight to the fairies again, I would be helping to make wishes come true.
If only I had kept one for myself and wished for a repeat of the weather for today.
Today, I had my first fishing experience which took place in the rain. Martyn and I were up early where the sun gave hint to burning away the early morning haze, but as we arrived at Teddington Lock, the mist moved slowly in creating a calmness to the morning. The air was so still, the Thames so quiet until thunder rumbled through the sky and the rain began. I sat huddled under a large umbrella watching the intricate setup for the day ahead. There is something very soothing about being out in the rain (when you are warm and dry!) I watched the droplets create music on the river, the tempo changing every few minutes with the odd clap of thunder providing a bass. I felt at peace as I watched and listened, feeling proud of the catch of the day - a 4lb perch (apparently it was a fine specimen of a fish!)
I didn't actually do any fishing, I hadn't actually been prepared in dressing for the rain so I stayed on my little seat in the dry and watched the multicoloured maggots escaping from their pots (they were coloured in a similar way to pilau rice) some had made a dash for the moss covered steps where with a valiant persistence they climbed the step, well, as high as they could until they fell off. I watched for around 10 minutes, transfixed on whether any of them would make it. None of them did, but the pink ones reached the highest.
