Rainy Heath Walk

Before taking Olga on her weekend walk to the Heath yesterday, I carefully checked the weather forecast, and ascertained that the best time to go would be just before lunchtime. The forecast called for a slight chance of rain at 11 a.m., but nothing more until mid-afternoon.

Of course, it rained for our entire walk.

But I'm not complaining, really I'm not. It's rain, which we have so badly needed. And it wasn't so heavy that it made the walk miserable. It just barely made us damp. The forest was lush with bracken and summer leaves, and the squirrels were scampering about, driving Olga to distraction.

The temperature was 54º F (or 12º C), and I was "dressed like the breath of spring," as my mother would disparagingly say. I was in shorts and a t-shirt and sweatshirt. I wasn't the only one who was chilly -- the bees were all hiding inside flowers or on the undersides of leaves, and barely moving. Such a shock to their systems after our recent weeks of warm, dry days.

Olga, for once, didn't seem to mind the rain at all. Once we got going, she was all in.

Here's my pottery chip find for the day. I actually left these in place, adorning the path. I do not need more pottery chips.

While Olga waded in the pond on Sandy Heath, I happened to notice a folded-up piece of paper stuck into a fork in a tree. It was a very weird handout about coronavirus, and how it's all a fraud and a sham perpetrated by the Trilateral Commission and the Bilderberg Group and various other governmental and non-governmental organizations. The objective, of course, is to DEPRIVE US OF OUR RIGHTS!

Good grief. Conspiracy theories, even on Hampstead Heath! I mean, I'm willing to admit that the world's economic policies don't benefit all of us equally and, in fact, mostly help those already at the top of the heap. But it's a leap to say the rich and powerful cooked up lockdowns and social distancing just to oppress the rest of us. Last time I checked, shutting down the economy wasn't doing them any favors, either.

On the way back home through Golders Hill Park, Olga paused next to the sculpture of the reclining sunbather. (Well, OK, I put her there.)

When we got home, Dave bathed the dog and we read a while before watching "Julie and Julia," one of our favorite movies. And then, in the middle of the film, the rain really came on strong. We even had thunder! I couldn't help but make a video, both so you could experience it and I can look back some day and remember it myself:

The rain slacks off a bit at the 18-second mark, picks up again at 33 seconds, and we switch the view to the patio at 1:48. Just so you know.