On a whim, we went out, we had planned to stay home this weekend, do a few chores, bit of gardening, keep the cats and the house company. But the cats went out, the garden promised to wait and Zeb was calling.
Then, as quickly as it arrived, the rain left and for one glorious moment or two, a rich flash of sunshine. The rainbow, fleeting, was beautiful as was it's softer pastel shaded second bow.
Our return to the van was a mix of gentle sun slipping through the heavy grey wash of clouds, the colours muted with spots of brilliance. Stripping off the wet coats and boots, rubbing Moss dry and feeding her we decided that as much as we would love to stay, the call of the house, a warm and crackling fire with the cats was greater. So we jumped into the cab, drove Zeb to another spot with a far reaching view and ate whilst we watched shower after shower race across the distant valley and surrounding hills before setting off for home.
Often the not planned-plans are the best. The simple pleasure of walking, good company, a dilly dog and the delight of returning to the van, putting on the kettle and wrapping chilled hands around a steaming mug - bliss.