Elaine and I walked Hania across to Barnes station just before 5 this afternoon, breathing in the smells of the Hawthorn blossom and what may have been Queen Anne’s Lace or Hedge Parsley. As we walked back, the cricketers came out to play, so we wandered in among the trees to watch, partly because the rain was starting fall.
We gradually made our way home, at one stage standing under a Horse Chestnut across from Chris Patten’s home as the rain thumped down. I watched it blur a distant Poplar – and found myself thinking of how the men in the WWI trenches would have experienced such downpours. Wonderful feeling, to be sheltered by a great tree.
Have spent much of the day wading through the newspapers from the past week – and, at one stage, booking a Eurostar ticket for tomorrow, in case my flight to Frankfurt is grounded by the incoming ash. Some geologists say that we are possibly heading into a period where some much larger Icelandic volcanoes begin to erupt. Time to explore videoconferencing more seriously?