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...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Rarity and COVID

Meaningless

A Stonechat. Discuss.