clouds – don't confuse the narrator

signs of life and death

It seems as if August has flown by with little to show for itself. I try to update this blog at the weekend, at least once every week, but I’ve been very remiss recently and two complete weekends have passed with no word from me. If the updates happen at the weekend, and I’ve missed two weekends, that’s actually three weeks without an update. Nothing since the first of August.

Strangely, there have already been more visitors to the site this month than in any month since May 2020. Perhaps I should continue not to post.
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morning and evening

I was out and about before the sun was up this morning and rushing off to the station.

That meant I didn’t have my good camera with me – it’s too heavy for general use – and I didn’t really pause to frame and focus, so the pictures I took of the misty morning in the park are not worth the pixels they’d take to display nor the bytes they need for keeping.
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ways and means

Sometimes what you want is inaccessible.

They say the sky’s the limit, but it’s way beyond your grasp.

Things are complicated: you feel you’ll never manage to track down the ends to unravel the different threads.
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the origin of clouds

Among the plants that evoke the summers of my childhood are buttercups, buddleia and the rosebay willow herb. I’ve posted quite a lot about the willow herb in the last couple of years, probably because I don’t remember it in Spain and now I’m back in the UK, after over two decades without it, it seems to be everywhere.
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in the clouds

Three weeks ago I wrote that my external hard drive was refusing to boot. Faced with the prospect of losing ten years worth of photos, writing and other memories, I managed to remain optimistic.

I finally took the drive down to the shop earlier this week and have spent a tense few days waiting for news. The chap now tells me that he thinks he has managed to recover everything. To avoid a repetition of the problem, he recommends that I start storing things in the cloud.
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