It is raining

Tonight I should write about my father's fall, his seizure, the four stitches in his head, swollen lip and the fear in his eyes as he tries to orientate himself. I should talk of calming him, whilst being so scared of losing another piece of my dad but it is raining. Properly raining. The kind of rain that part of me wants to go outside and dance circles in.

There has only been a little thunder and lightening.

It is the kind of rain that has inspired me to make cauliflower cheese and light candles in the absence of a fire. My flowers look starkly dry and lifeless in comparison. I buy myself flowers, cheap and wasteful, but that's a whole other story.

It is the kind of rain which bounces and thunders on the sides of old canvas tents whilst you huddle inside and tell tall tales.

It is rain that compels me to watch it. Sheets and ribbons of water. Unpredictable and beautiful.

I love weather. I love watching it from afar. Clouds coming in, mist descending, rain approaching.

Weather takes me back to so many places and moments that make up my life. From being snowed in in the remote Highland wilderness to the smell of soggy woollen school duffel coats and freshly washed summer pavements. Weather has inspired me, scared me and given me memories that are suddenly vital and present.

Tonight I am reminded of watching rain, whilst I am warm and dry, on a different sofa. I am reminded of Knoydart.

It is a remote peninsula only accessible by air, feet or boat. It is one of my favourites places in the world and hosts an extraordinary community.

I am lying on a sofa in my long johns in an otherwise empty bed & breakfast. The log stove is lit. Music plays, is there whisky and tea? I am reading and watching the winter rain make its way across the sea loch and hills outside.

I am lying on that sofa with Andy (the ex and Morocco companion of earlier tales). We are one at each end, legs entwined. Chat breaks through the staring and day dreaming.

It is the beginning. It a moment of promise, anticipation and connection despite the dreary, cold day.

I am transfixed by the weather and I am happy.