Easter Monday - Rain

Easter was remarkable in every way - the sun shone bright, temperatures were almost tropical and breezes were balmy, all in all an unseasonably delightful day that seemed more like June than early April. The clan descended on the little blue house for food, wine, oceans of tea, music, single malt and happy nattering. We all sighed with contentment, and everyone went home happy and somewhat sleepy.

This morning, the village skies are cloudy, and a light rain is promised for the whole day - there is no sun to be seen, and a lustrous pearly gray sheen dapples everything within view. In the absence of good light for photography, it's a good day for reading and pondering and tending one's mental garden.

There is harp music on the sound system, and there are stacks of books on the old oak library table: books on art, photography, creativity, local geology, barn architecture, hydrostatics, bugs, butterflies and gardening. Volumes on the glorious gardens of Trelissick and Heligan beckon today too, and a copy of the National Trust Book of Gardens is close at hand. One simply cannot tackle such undertakings without pots and pots of Darjeeling, or perhaps a splendid smoky Lapsang Souchong.

Rain patters on the roof like footsteps - it sets the wind chimes in the eaves dancing, and it glosses with silver the enchantments of a day that might in other circumstances be called simply "gray".