Hurtling Scotch mist swept by at remarkable speed, the wind roared and thundered through the trees, and the ground was absolutely, utterly and completely sodden. If you were foolish enough to walk on it, water squelched out with every footfall. And despite this, the weather forecasters were predicting another 4 inches to 8 inches of rain for the West Highlands this weekend…

Algy found himself a soggy perch that was not actually waterlogged, and surveyed the dismal scene. He remembered a poem by Longfellow about just such a day. It was all very well to say that “into each life some rain must fall”, but enough was enough already! Why couldn’t it fall on the places that desperately needed water for a change? Algy idly wondered whether the sun really was still shining behind the clouds, but as he couldn’t actually see any clouds, being entirely shrouded in the dense mist, it hardly made any difference. Truly the poet said:

          The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
          It rains, and the wind is never weary;
          The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
          But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
          And the day is dark and dreary.

          My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
          It rains, and the wind is never weary;
          My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
          But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
          And the days are dark and dreary.

          Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
          Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
          Thy fate is the common fate of all,
          Into each life some rain must fall,
          Some days must be dark and dreary.

[ Algy is quoting the poem The Rainy Day by the 19th century American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. ]

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