Ten was a week of peach-tinged clouds on a solo walk about the sea front, glad to get fresh air at the end of a work day. It was a week of snuggling with the lad. Ten was that week when I popped into Edinburgh with Harris, because, back then, it was perfectly normal to get on a bus and go somewhere. Ten was the week when we went to Cambo Gardens in Fife (see the story here) and walked through the woods admiring the snowdrops (although they had been battered by the endless February rain) and then along the beach at Kingsbarns below brooding clouds.
And ten was the week when we had this magical light at John Muir Country Park, arriving in sunshine before the clouds appeared, and I stood on the edge of the woods, overlooking the bay as the rain swept in, blowing through the sunshine, the light shifting by the second. Sunshine and rain together.
And then there was this rainbow, a hint of a double rainbow, in the distance, over the grassland and the sea beyond. A fleeting moment of calm and beauty after the storm.