A Rainy Day by the Seaside

There is something singularly depressing about a wet day at a seaside resort. A few weeks ago the place was busy with people enjoying the sun, relaxing, laughing. Today the sands were deserted; the beach huts have been turned sideways against the incoming weather; puddles collect along the promenade.

The one inch of rain that fell in the last twelve hours reminded me of a good day in the Highlands. The difference here is that we don't get prolonged periods of it: one friend who came to stay in Kilchoan never saw the sun in a week and promised that he wouldn't be bothering to return to Scotland any day soon.

The rain even drove the most hardy of the dog-walkers off the promenade; the drains in the streets couldn't cope so anyone walking the pavements was soaked not only by the rain from above but also from the side by the passing cars hitting the puddles; but it was a good day to go shopping as the stores were deserted.

I didn't mind walking in the rain today. I'm well equipped to stay dry and it suited my mood. And I'm used to it.