I spoke too soon in my last post and pretty much since that point it has rained. We worked yesterday and this morning in it. It didn’t abate. It made us muddy, we made more mud because of it. It followed us down the hill in streams. It seems like footpath maintenance is a futile act.
Two days in with the new crew and they’re a completely different group. 3 ladies from NYC (who are all closer to or my age). The rest are British. All but 2 of the 10 of us are female, which surprises many of the walkers who pass us.
Some words about rain…
The richness of the rain made me feel safe and protected; I have always considered the rain to be healing—a blanket—the comfort of a friend. Without at least some rain in any given day, or at least a cloud or two on the horizon, I feel overwhelmed by the information of sunlight and yearn for the vital, muffling gift of falling water.
Douglas Coupland, Life After God
where the raven landed 
I appreciate the attachment of mud to Everything/everybody. Bless the waterproofs!
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Indeed, the waterproofs are my favourite bit of this week so far.
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