The sun and the rain
(Bluebells: Glasgow, Scotland)
Yesterday was one of those archetypal Spring days; stunningly sunny one minute, and the next, a massive downpour with thunder, lightning and sharp hailstones. Then of course, it reverted back to steamy sunshine again. I was in a café for a brief rendezvous with my chum, Anna, as I had been at my desk all day and I was growing stiff and cold with drawing and computer activities. This happens quite often and it usually means it’s time for a meal or a walk. I’m prone to the cold but I had staved it off with my ample Korean breakfast until the mid afternoon. I’m like a dog, ruled by food and walkies. Thus, I decided to take a turn out in the sun and meet Anna at a local café.
We started by sitting outside in the sun, but after five minutes of being sun blinded, we moved indoors because of a biting wind. We enjoyed a short sunny period in the café and then abruptly and watched a family rush inside, rain splattered and annoyed at being caught in a sudden squall. A little girl was complaining that her biscuit had gone a bit soggy. Just after we had settled the bill, we turned to leave and at that moment, the café was again hammered by a shocking tempest. I went to the window and peered up to monitor the sky situation that was met with a flash of lightning and an ominous rumble of thunder. We ended up waiting at least ten minutes by the door (along with other jovial customers telling us we should stop for another coffee) and discussing our lack of umbrellas.
Once it finally subsided, I made for home and was making good progress, keeping dry when a car drove past me and into a (now very familiar) pothole. I was scooshed with a torrent of water, right up to the neck. As I looked up to the sky and then down to survey the damage, another car got me once again. The postcard I was holding poised and ready to post was absolutely dripping wet. However, it didn’t dampen my afternoon. I wandered back home, over the M8 motorway, right by the most impressive growth of bluebells I’ve ever seen in a city. They are lovely and the whole area has a faint botanical smell. As I walked up and past them, I could also detect the sweet, rich smell of damp earth, which I remember quite vividly from my childhood. I wasn’t always face down outside, I just was quite an outdoorsy sort of child. As I walked back up Garnethill and on to home, I noted how fresh everything smelled, especially with the intense* heat. Some of the car roofs in the street had begun to visibly steam, and the damp foliage was giving off a scent that (however trite and / or unbelievable) reminded me of Bali.
* for Glasgow
– Today Rosie is heading out for a meeting in Stirling, Scotland –
