Yesterday I decided that it would be good to go to town today, preferably in the morning. I slept in, hence put on my civilised garb only in the late morning, and stepped out ready to conquer the world. After five steps it started to rain heavily, and I run back in. Waiting in my appartement, I read some news, drank another coffee. After midday I was ready, grabbed the rubbish bag, and stepped out again. This time I made it to the waste bin, before the deluge started. I jumped back in, watched the neighbouring houses vanish in a greyish mist, and decided that tomorrow is early enough to visit the Franconian capital.
In the late afternoon I held an inspection of my supplies, made a list of what to buy, and prepared myself for the bicycle ride to the supermarket. This time I looked up to the sky (clever, eh !?), it was grey. Not that “I’ll drown you any second”-grey, more of a “Pah, I don’t care for you worm, just do what you have to do”-grey. I came to the end of the street before the clouds burst, and roughly twenty meters after the corner I felt cold water running down my spine. It made no more sense to look for shelter, I was already soaking wet, so I could go on.
When I sailed into the supermarket’s parking lot in an immaculate half circle, stopping exactly on the spot at the cycle rack, it stopped raining, of course. What astounded my was the steep drop of the temperature, it felt not cool or fresh, it felt & feels cold. First thing after my return was a hot bath.
Now it rains steadily, soft, a little rumble in the distance ; a public warning against a thunderstorm is issued, what a way to start August.
Now it’s time for a little melancholic song – Hébé (text) is the Greek goddess of youth (Ger., Eng.) ; French composer Ernest Amédée CHAUSSON (1855-1899) (Ger., Eng.) wrote a song about her (it is song number six in his opus 2 : Sept Mélodies), and French soprano Véronique GENS (Ger., Eng.) sings it for us, accompanied by pianiste Susan MANOFF (about). I hope you like the music.
May this week be bearable for all of us.
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63 mago 
I’m glad you didn’t have to swim back to the apartment with the groceries on your head.
Give me back my rain! The grass is burnt to yellow, the tips of trees, shrubs and ferns are all burnt orange. The haze from distant fires. These last few mornings is like waking up in a technicolor apocalypse. If I don’t get my room darkening shade installed soon, I’ll need to wear sunglasses to bed.
You are turning into a Brit with all this talk of weather – welcome to my world of grey skies and coats that aren’t waterproof!
Sx
“A technicolor apocalypse” – whow ! Usually we should have “Hochsommer” here, with temperatures reaching 30° Celsius and more, beore it tips over to autumn, with a change of light, a dip of the temperature etc. I do not complain Melanie, really not – looking to Southern Eiurope with more than 40° C in Greece, fires all around the Eastern Mediterranean we are lucky here ! I wish you some rain soon Melanie – I think the air needs a good washing out from all that smoke, dust and GOd alone may know what is flowing around there.
As I said to Melanie – I prefer the rain & the grey over heat & fire any way MsScarlet ! If I manage the weather talk – what else would I need to conquer ? I am a German (and Franconian) as a man can be, is there a chance to camouflage as “Brit” ? For “brat” I’m too old now, and “brut” is not to my tastes … turning into a “Brett” is outdated (was called “planking”), and “Brot” would be a bit too perverse, ending up as sandwich, dear …
Magobrot. Das schmeckt gut.
I could use some Magenbrot now, dearest Mistress !