For the second morning running I wake to the sound of wet tyres swishing by on the road outside.

I lay and listen and feel thankful that our house is not on the banks of a river or lake but perched at the top of a hill.   A small suburban one it is true  but if the water laps at my doorstep everyone around us will be in serious trouble.

It always amazes me how a couple of days of steady rain transforms things.  My lovely sunlit garden is now shades of acid green and dripping under a leaden sky.

The tall Livingstone Daisies at the back of the borders have surrendered, and are draped across the shorter plants, their heads too heavy with rain to hold up.  The crowds of Marigolds have turned from sunny orange to seed heads and the fairy ring of Toadstools rotted away in the damp.

This is what two days of rain can do, but all will be remedied with a couple of hours of sunshine, then the flowers will stop cowering away and the Bees will return.

And it is not cold and the wind isn’t howling, it is what we around here call Summer!

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