The end of the rainbow and the end of a soggy walk.
We got a drenching as I strolled with three friends down to the village for our weekly “dog walk” down to the pub on Tuesday evening. The rain was torrential, with water cascading off the rim of my kangaroo-leather hat, purchased during a trip to Sydney a few years ago and perfect for protection against British rain. The path was muddy, and we had left long-haired Lesia at home, since she has a tendency to collect mud in her fur and subsequently deposit it on the pub carpet. Even beneath the trees the rain sprayed through the young spring foliage, exacerbated by heavy drops falling from the branches. Thanks to hats and waterproofs we were dry from the waist up, but all had soggy trousers by the time that we arrived in the village. We emerged from the trees where the route passed by the quarry offices, with the church behind, the bells pealing as Tuesday is practice night for the bell ringers. We were rewarded by evening sun shining through the rain, and a glorious rainbow arched over the church tower, and then rewarded again by a pint of Everards Old Original bitter.
