I stand in the cold gray weather,
In the white and silvery rain;
The great trees huddle together,
And sway with the windy strain.
I dream of the purple glory
Of the roseate mountain-height
And the sweet-to-remember story
Of a distant and clear delight.
The rain keeps constantly raining,
And the sky is cold and gray,
And the wind in the trees keeps complaining
That summer has passed away;
But the gray and the cold are haunted
By a beauty akin to pain,
By a sense of a something wanted,
That never will come again.
With the marvellous rain, lunch is a problem. But today we decided to brave through the weather for curry fish head.
We set out, 6 of us and 1 umbrella. (Don't ask). While 4 of us squeezed hopelessly in our one precious brolly, the remaining (being stubborn guys) walked as though they were waterproof.
So we walked and squealed endlessly for more umbrella space, me being the one pushed out all the time, and we reached the curry fish head store with my clothes damped, my feet soaked and my hair in frumpy clumps.
But all was forgotten when the food arrived and we enjoyed thoroughly.
