Less fuss than me

The afternoon was spent sheltering under trees - my walk, across Epsom and Walton Downs, was a wet affair. Who can remember when it used to just rain? Our precipitation now seems to come in two flavours - none, or deluge. The calcareous footpaths that I was wandering along became chalk streams within minutes, my footwear soaked through. A Yew became a refuge for over 30 minutes, where I was able to feel very wet and surprisingly cold as I looked out at an ever darkening sky. Even when brightness seemed to hold the ascendency another nasty belt of rain rushed in on a brisk north-westerly, sending me to scurry back to my shelter. During one of these periods of incarceration, a Silver-washed Fritillary floated past, alighting nearby. It didn't seem bothered by the rain, and allowed me to spend a few moments in its company. I then let it be, marvelling that such a delicate insect should be able to stay exposed to the heavy rain with seemingly little consequence. It was making far less fuss than me...


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