Since we moved to Lewes there has not been a day when I have not been grateful for the sky. No matter how fraught is that “get them out the gate” bit in the morning – as soon as we hit the gate they are running and there are the downs and the big, big sky.
The other night I was walking home from the train after a day of this in Birmingham. It’s a long way. I get back after the pubs are shut. The streets are empty. My husband offers me a lift from the station but I like the walk.
The walk is all uphill – half way up the hill it started to rain. I was first aware of it because I could hear it coming and then in a second, I could hear it hammering the road. This rain we get here – it’s tropical. It’s assertive and absolute and it comes in under your hat and into your shoes and it finds you.
God it’s fabulous. It’s almost welcoming.
I got home soaked and there is great satisfaction in finally standing dripping and laughing in your hallway. Fresh socks and an armchair.
The kids also got caught coming home from school today – they slopped into the kitchen giggling and phewing, even though they were freezing and shivering and John not quite sure where to put himself or how much laughing was required. Joseph can’t do some of this sensory stuff – but he is getting the hang of rain. We make hot chocolate with marshmallows.
I love it here in Lewes. I am still madly in love with living where you can see the sky and the weather coming and where the rain wakes us up in the morning (taptap) and the seagulls are as big as Labradors.