Wild, Wet and Windy mornings ...

Haha .... a hound with PINK hair!

Rain .... rain .... rain ...... LOTS of it!  It seems an age since the wet stuff was here.

Two WET lemmings

Wild  wet and WINDY mornings do NOT defeat us.  

They inspire us - they even inspire the lemmings.  

.... and a wet hound!

Yes ... despite the wet and wild weather TWO of them partook in our hike to the view site this morning and the third one joined us on the beach.  The younger two learnt how to walk UP to the view site when the wind’s doing everything in it’s power to RETURN you to the beach.  Even Julia was up there BEFORE us this morning ... windswept and waiting.

Early morning ferry on very choppy waters.

The wind was WILD.  We know now how the seagulls feel.

There’s a certain satisfaction about rambling in the rain. We ramble whatever the weather but the lycra-clad looneys on their two-wheeled contraptions can’t.  There’s a stillness this morning, despite the wind, that isn’t shattered by their inane conversation.  It’s beautiful even with the raindrops relentlessly rolling off my hood.

Rain means less opportunity to take photos though.  Sadly, rain and the camera don’t always see eye-to-eye.  Raindrops on lenses don’t have quite the same appeal as raindrops on roses .... or kittens for that matter.

The fur-ball DOESN’T like the rain.  It drips on her and makes her wet.  She doesn’t do WET ... unlike the hound.  The hound does VERY wet .... VERY well.

One tired hound and one disgruntled fur-ball .... 

For the first time in I don’t know HOW many weeks there were NO other hounds on the beach.  Even Sam didn’t make an appearance.

Somehow the oldest lemming managed to avoid the downpour ...

There’s no time to waste just because of deviant weather though.  We only have one life to live and I’m determined to live mine to the full.  The bombings in Boston this morning were a sharp reminder of how quickly one’s life can be snuffed out.  Gone.  In an instant.

A crime that shouldn’t happen.  A world gone mad.  My heart aches for the innocent lives destroyed by this senseless act.

Life is a beautiful struggle ... a story in the making. We all assume that our stories will have happy endings.  We don’t factor in the possibility that something might derail that ending we’ve visualised in our minds. 

I guess that’s the folly of our youthful selves.

None of us have any idea how or when our stories are going to end.  Maybe instead of lurching along zeroing in on that happy ending thingy, we should be focusing instead on making the story a good one ... on living the adventure that IS this life.