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.