sky

Stephen came to do the garden today. His injured hand is in a thick glove, but he still mows, prunes, and does whatever else needs attending to. We had a grumble about the rotten weather - apparently there hasn't been a completely dry day since 20 August. I just need a few good autumn days to settle the garden down, cut and dry some sage and lavender, and put in bulbs for the spring. (And trash the tomato plants. I've never known such a rubbish season.)

This evening I went out to do the Compost Heap Pilgrimage and found the air was warm and still. Came back in here, worked at the computer, and happened to glance over my shoulder.

I squeaked. Really. The sky had changed colour, the clouds glowed deep pink and swirling. I shouted to LYS to look, and ran outside.

Looking north and east down the valley, all was still a uniform grey blue. But the western sky was on fire. Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. A promise of a fine day. A garden day.

And I'll be in Oxford. Never mind, the garden can wait. I am greatly looking forward to Oxford and will tell you all about it when I get home. And if the weather holds, perhaps I will be treated to another beautiful sunset tomorrow, over the City of Gleaming Spires.

In case you're wondering - Peggy Woolley is worried about Jack, Jenny, Peggy's daughter, is worried about Peggy, Brian (Jenny's husband) is worried about Alice, the Grundy family are all worried about Clarrie, and Joe just had his ninetieth birthday. KEEP UP!