I remember the days when the sun warmed my bare arms, when the grass was dry and springy, when the sky was blue.
It seems a long time ago. It's still raining here and it reminded me of a Ray Bradbury story I read many years ago. The title has disappeared along with the sunshine but the story remains fresh in my mind. Britain was being evacuated because the weather here was unfit for humans. (Amazing how fiction can become reality.) At the final airlift one man refused to be moved and, as the helicopter (I think) took off, that man ran around, completely insane, declaring himself King of England.
I'd taken a picture of a miserable grey landscape to add to this blog and then decided to spread some shunshine instead. The picture was taken while we were on our travels around the coast of Britain. It's sunshine and blue sea on the Isle of Skye.