It’s raining!

It’s bucketing down here. Nothing new, you’re probably crying, because – after all – it’s rained a LOT this summer. No, really, A LOT. No, this is different rain. This is good honest-to-god hurtling towards earth making a colossal racket and hitting the ground hard enough to bounce three inches back into the air.

It’s what my auld mammie would call ‘Stoatin’ oaf the groond’.

There’s no wind at all – the night is otherwise silent and calm. Just a steady torrential vertical downpour. And the air smells beautiful for it. It’s hitting the leaves of the trees with a leathery whack, clattering off slates and drumming on windows. There’s a steady stream flowing down our patio door (which does, looking on the bright side, save us from having to wash them!) and it’s collecting on the ground in the back garden.

It’s just lovely.

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