Today is woken by a satisfying release of rain. It throws itself down all morning. In the afternoon the monocloud mutates into individuals, allowing the sun to startle people. A nipping wind reminds everyone not to discard coats. Later I roam the fields with Dog, I walk under a cloud shadow, looking out at sun patterns on the moors. I look down at drops of rain lined up on grass blades. Just drops of water, not unusual objects, but these little dots all join up, they are all part of the water cycle and the miracle that life exists at all. Just like most people, ordinary and amazing.
And then I came home to write about it, and found my old lap top unresponsive. Where there should be words and familiar icons, there is a blank screen. I am able to borrow a strange machine, and struggle with the odd ways of doing things that should be automatic. Many of my words and pictures are lost in the blank screen.  I suffer a miniature grief for it.
The sky settles to an off white, and the sun slips away, taking the daylight with it.


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