Protests. Hailstorms. Snowdrifts. Birdspotting.

 It all seems to be  “kicking off”, as some people say, in France. Protests all over the country. Town halls set on fire - well, at least one, in Bordeaux. They do have a tendency over there to wreck things! Even Charles has had to postpone his planned visit to Paris. Maybe at the back of his mind is the thought that they have been known to chop the heads off kings on that side of the Channel. Bang goes his first state visit as monarch! 

The world seems to be turmoil in so many places at present. I almost feel guilty that my major concern at this exact moment is the hailstorm that is rattling against the windows. Before I set off on my run this morning I considered not putting my beanie hat on. There seemed to be enough sunshine to merit leaving hat and gloves behind. In the end I decided in favour of wearing them. If necessary, I reasoned, I could always stuff them in my bumbag. It was the right decision. Mid- to late-March sunshine is fine and warm in sheltered spots but the wind this morning was bitter. This explains why the hailstorm has now cleared away completely, leaving a deceptively clear blue sky! 

We had torrential rain at times yesterday. At the point in the late morning when Granddaughter Number Two was contemplating catching a bus (and complaining about delays) to come and join her small brother at my house the rain was bouncing off the rooftops and forming a small lake in the back garden. By the time she arrived we were back to blue sky and sunshine and decided to risk a walk to the local park, via the chippy. One of the things she has missed while away at university has been buying sausage and chips on a Thursday lunchtime from Delph chippy. 

So we set off, taking one of the longer routes into the village so that we could check if the snow mountain (more of a large molehill really) was still there in the field where it had been dumped when the snowdrifts were cleared from the lane. Almost two weeks later it is still there, three feet high and very dirty! It’s like the apocryphal stories people tell of the winter of 1948 when snowdrifts were still around in May according to local legends. 

After that we followed the path that runs alongside the river, spotting water wagtails as we went. That was when we saw two small black and white birds, new to us. Not magpies, despite being black and white. Not ducks either as far as we could tell. Later we checked in the bird-book to no avail but eventually internet identified them for us as white-throated dippers, not native to our neck of the woods. There you go.

The plan for our walk was to share her sausage and chips with the little chap in the park, let him run around for a while and then head for home. Barely had she unwrapped her chippy spoils than the clouds blew in and brought more torrential rain, his time with hailstorms thrown in. We took refuge in the Co-op and then scuttled homewards once weather conditions allowed it. Back home the small boy tucked into cold chips with gusto. No protests there! 

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!