FEBRUARY RAINS

FEBRUARY RAINS

Driving home the sky was dark; blue black with cloud but with an amber snowy tinge. There was a mist of water rising from the cars from the rain that had just fallen on the road. As I neared Cardross, the small patch of blue that I had seen from the corner of my eye

expanded as the rain cloud retreated. The Clyde lit up, sparkling silver, the fields turned brilliant green.

I came into the village, turned left and in front of me I saw half the sky dark; menacing, so sombre and cold; the other half; bright, light splashing all over the pavements. The white circle of the sun seemed to be rushing through the moving cloud towards the blue sky; an eerie illusion.

By the time I parked by the house, the rain drops falling from the trees were glistening like golden diamonds as they passed through the sunshine.

Pausing on the steps with Dash the dog, everything shone, not quite painfully bright; instead rich and warm and yet startling. The painted stone’s colours on the top step were the richest I had ever seen them. The gleaming steps were ruby red.

I opened the door; Dash rushed in, leaving muddy footprints all over the house. I stripped off my soaking waterproofs and started making coffee. Moments later, the clouds came back, the room dimmed; Dash cuddled up to me and I slowly sipped my drink.

It happened all day long; a sudden dimming as the clouds came by, driving rain, followed by sunshine and light and back again to the gloom.

Me and Dash in the house, safe from the rain and the wind to come.

(Photos; Ardmore in January and February)