You who live in sunny climes
Might think you have the best of times;
I beg to disagree.
If every day the skies are blue,
No clouds obscure the dazzling view,
There’s scant variety.
You’ll never feel the deep delight,
When dour grey turns to dazzling bright
For a short precious while.
The sense that duties, cares and grief
Can be forgot. And to the beach,
To run and bounce and smile!
(Verse inspired by an outing to St Combs, near Fraserburgh in the very far NE of Scotland, last Sunday.)
P.S. Bouncing Bertie Boffin here: Please do look out for my post on Thursday, when I shall be announcing a brand new and exciting science-related competition. Oh. Gail is disputing my description here, saying any connection with science is "tenuous at best". It is rather, (she claims), "yet another invitation to all your doggie friends to poke fun in public at their human carers". I bet you can't wait...
