It’s not as though the temperature was any different from any other day first thing in the morning, it was a pleasant sub-twenty as we sat with our coffee, but the sun had a pronounced bite, the light from it beaming a bright white that swept away the colour from everything it touched, the sky a cloudless but luminescent silver.
One very quickly gleaned the impression that the weather was once again going to be unerringly and perhaps disappointingly in keeping with the forecast.
Normally the morning mist conjures cooling images, but there was none of that today, the vapour rising from where the shard of sunlight as it glanced the surface of the water made it look for all the world as though the canal was about to come on to the boil. We thought of staying in our little shady spot for the day, but then the thought of that other little shady spot reserved for us under Maggie’s grape vine, the one with cold drinks and ice cubes and dogs that would make a fuss of us when we arrived, took control and once again by days end we were home in Lagarde.
Very much at home.