A soft day

A soft day.

It is a soft day, as my Irish friends would put it. The rain is so fine that it defies gravity and soaks you from the underside. It is a warm southern rain, having travelled from the Azores or other places exotic, to be deposited on the west of Scotland. The lochs and hills blend, like a watercolour made by a nervous amateur painter and the Fifers are invisible.
Yesterday I went in search of them. After putting in a prudent first reef on the main and with full Genoa, we cut a fine dash down the Clyde to photograph those beautiful boats racing around Great Cumbrae island. The wind fell light before I could get there and the day became soft. Was that a glimpse of them blending into the drizzle? Tomorrow sun is forecast.

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About mikeinkwazi

I am in my seventies and live in the west coast of Scotland, with the sea at the bottom of my garden. I have been variously, a sculptor an art teacher, designer, inventor, organic grower and last but never least, a blue water sailor. By the way, I have been telling stories and writing nonsense all my life!

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