standing in a doorway

ompletely mis-reading the clouds yesterday afternoon, I set out for a walk. A gentle rain started almost immediately, but it felt pleasantly cool and refreshing so I carried on, ignoring the gradually increasing intensity.

Eventually the rain passed beyond the point of definite downpour and reached the stage of thunder and lightning. Despite having passed many pleasant-looking cafes earlier, I couldn't find one to shelter in, so I stood in the ample doorway of an estate agent's office.

First to join me was a young Australian woman on a brief break from work. We chatted amiably for a while, and the conversation veered towards her former fear of lightning. As if to prove a point, she put up her umbrella and returned to work.

Shortly afterwards, three young people took shelter beside me, speaking a language that sounded like a recording played backwards. Not entirely convinced it was genuine, I would guess, if I had to, at one of the Baltic States. There was no spoken communication between us but we exchanged smiles.

They soon moved on, to be replaced, albeit momentarily, by someone waiting for a companion to catch up. No contact at all between us, turning this into a series of decreasing interactions.

Watching the torrents run down the streets, interrupted only by cars attempting to turn across them, I wished I'd brought my camera on this visit to Edinburgh so I could have captured the peole leaning out of the windows on the upper floors opposite to get a better view of the soaked pedestrians below, or the man attempting to enter the restaurant without collapsing his rainbow-coloured umbrella.

No doubt, though, that if I did have my camera with me, I'd be fretting too much about protecting it from the rain.