OOTD: The Rainy Creek

I'm writing this as the rain pours down outside this bedroom window and the smell of wet conifer and soil sneaks in through the open crack. 

I love the rain at night when I'm tucked up in bed and it drums a song against the windows, the walls, the roof. But it's morning now. 

Someday's I become frustrated at the rain - if it's upset my plans for the beach or picnicking with friends. Mostly I don't mind it too much. It's beautiful in its own serene way. The song it gives as it falls on the trees and dark waters are therapy and the soft glow of a diffused sun sun lights this morning room as I slowly rejoin this world. 

The rain won't stop me from going outside - I have boots and a raincoat after all. There is serenity in all the weathers but storms - there is majesty in those. Mists. Storms. Rains. You are all beautiful and teach me to not always prepare for the predicted and known but think on my feet and learn to find joy in the puddles and winds.
This year, it rained on my birthday and that was okay. Instead of surfing and BBQ'ing on the beach as we would had planned, we went down the mines and learned the history of Cornish tin and spent the evening at George's family having a special meal and it was wonderful.
I admit, I've had to snatch erratically at my precious moments in the sea this summer. Every moment of sun has been coveted and exercised to it's maximum potential. I found myself becoming disenchanted by this chilly, damp & unpredictable summer eventually and scoured the internet begging for an explanation. My conclusion was it's probably an 'el nino' summer and that's okay. I just wanted reassurance that it wasn't a permanent arrangement. After all we may get snow this winter.

With bruised knees from knocks and falls and ankles torn by thorns and nettles, I will never make a fine lady. It's a lucky thing I've never been one for refined things and ladylike behaviour. 

HAT: FAT FACE |   DRESS: YUMI 

BOOTS: RED OR DEAD 

I spent my gloomy evening on the creek alone. I set up the camera on it's tripod and photographed the natural world as I saw it - that moment on the river, immortalising and encasing it in a picture. I spoke to the swans and fished some pretty seaweed from the water before it turned too cold and I drove to St.Martin to pick up family from their band rehearsal. As I was driving, the dense cloud dissolved and the moon appeared, peering shyly from behind the wisps. The moon and I have an ongoing love affair that it shares with the ocean and of course with George. We smiled at each other, the moon and I, nodded politely downplaying our romance and the light faded until the stars came to keep us company. 

There's all sorts of quiet spots begging to be found, so when my head became full of thoughts I went to the creek. I could watch the tide rise an fall, the rain drops ripple on the surface and focus on the things that really mattered, like the way the wind blows through the long grass and makes it dance.