Yesterday was a day of heavy showers, punctuated by occasional brief spells of sunshine. It was mischievous weather – the sort that lulled you into a false sense of security and then soaked you to the skin!
But by early evening the showers had ceased and the rays of the sinking sun produced a range of soft pinks and blues in the passing clouds. The only sounds were bird songs, the occasional bleating of lambs in the sheep field and the apologetic hourly chime from the clock in the church tower. It was a magical time.