Saturday, 10 January 2015

Tullibigeal

An underappreciated pleasure: warm dry clothing. It's a cool day and I'd just washed myself and cloths, when the showers start. Not wanting to get another set wet, I squeeze as much water out as I can, then put them back on. They'll dry faster with a heater in them, even if the heater doesn't enjoy the sensation.
Quiet day after that, listening to the rain on the zinc roof under a picnic shelter.
It showers, drizzles or rains during the night. When I wake, it continues. I fail to leave.
I find out the locals have all been talking about the poor woman in her tent at the picnic shelter. When the fourth person comes over to offer somewhere out of the wind and rain, I give in. More to ease their worries than from concern about the wind and rain. I move to another larger shelter, out of sight. It's also more peaceful, people wise. Empty sheds nearby, roofing iron clangs in the wind makes a memorable night.

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