Watching the puddles grow

Monday August 9, 2004

A wonderful wet, cooler day. Not the torrential downpour the forecasters had predicted—other parts of the Kingdom got that—nor the major thunderstorms. Graham said he’d heard a rumble or two during the afternoon but I missed it. At one point, while I was working at my computer, the power flicked on and off momentarily a couple of times but my trusty UPS saved me from any data loss.

I wonder how many hours of my life I’ve spent inside watching the rain drops on the window running down, joining, splitting, forming a dancing prism over the wet world outside? I loved that as a child and here I am, hitting my mid-sixties, and still loving it. I tried a couple of shots to see if I could record what I saw today but the results didn’t match my vision. I did manage it a longish way back, in Wales—I wonder if I can find it… oh, yes, here it is:

Rainy window, Wales, 2001
 
Raindrops on the window

It’s a complicated formula, getting the focus and exposure correct and arriving at the right depth of field and colour balance. Those are technicalities, though. What’s really important is the frame. The windows here do a great job of their main function—letting the light in and keeping the weather out—but modern plastic frames do nothing to help the photographer. You need a more traditional window than that, with timber frames, panes set in putty, and several paint jobs to soften the edges.

So, what have we been up to? Graham spent a happy day assembling the cabinet furniture we bought the other day at IKEA. Harry and Dolly caught up on their sleep. I should have followed their example—this run of hot humid weather has made for restless, unsatisfying nights—but something kept me from doing that. I pottered, that’s what I did. Dipping into and out of several books, wandering about the house from window to window, counting raindrops and watching the puddles grow. I also ate some beautiful early season plums, chilled and delicious from the fridge.

I shall need to catch up on that errant sleep soon. Not today, though. Not today.

 

pencam
 
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