Drip, drip drop, little April STORMS!

As the temperatures stretch into the mid twenties and beyond the site has become a time lapse photographers dream; people come and go in their vehicles loaded with materials, friends and observers pop in to help and say ‘Hi’ and the landscape around us and in the distance is transformed into neat rows of hope.

Drains in, partitions built, quotes accepted, tiles ordered, samples viewed, late night discussions, decisions made and changed. Seeds selected, weeds tamed, rows hoed and staples planted on mass, the promise of freshly picked salads draws closer.

The clatter of thunder marks the end of the day and I hurry to get things under cover, and whilst the arcing circuit sparks to the sky are no sure sign of rain, if it does then it comes down as if it’s the last chance it will ever get. The road to civilisation can become impassable by anything other than welly clad foot as it becomes river and I am reminded that I must put in some road drainage, one day! The van is moved to higher and more solid ground.

With hardly time to think to count between the crack and the flash the storm is upon us. Dogs return from adventures to seek shelter and the increased throttle of a tractor can be heard in the distance as the final row of potatoes is sown, just in time. The darkening sky sends the omnipresent dandelions to sleep, and even the birds leave the trees to hiding places unknown as the first scouting raindrops hit the tin roof of the house with a hollow flat note, soon becoming a hurried drum roll punctuated by a dripping gutter. I must fix that!

As the wind races around the house a clear and sunlit patch of ground can be spotted to the south east and I know is heading this way, and no sooner have I finished my cup of tea then a birdsong melody replaces the drum solo and the clouds settle over the next valley finding a new home on higher ground. Now as a distant observer I look on in awe as the electrical show continues and my slow quiet counting confirms that the storm is visiting lands further afield, but the rumble can still be heard for an hour or so after, a last word reminder that it will be back again tomorrow.