Indeed, it feckin' is.
Everytime I venture out, I get wet. Three damp dog walks yesterday, just about dry after the first and it's time for the second. And so on.
S.A.D? Not usually a sufferer, but this week, yes. And as I type, the sun's out. And when I stop, it will, doubtless, rain again.
And the birds are as dry as the weather is not. The Guv and Crammy, like a re-run of the BBC wildlife programme of the 70s, Man and Boy, emerged from Arcot as I arrived, and nothing to report. Not even worth gtting out of the car. If The Guv and 'Lucky Phil' can't find anything, then there's nothing to find. And it was raining....
A bijou stroll-ette along Beacon Lane disturbed the Little Owl who was sitting on a post along the lane (Note to self: Even when wearing wellies, sneak as opposed to goose-step!). But not a Crossbill in sight.