Holme Wold House, East Yorkshire Wolds. Oil on Canvas board.

Third day of a rain interrupted cricket, third test, England need to win to keep test match alive. So with the radio on I set off to walk George. Along the quiet road from Holme on the Wolds, past Giles's the road elevates slightly. The verges are full of tall grasses and faded umbels with yellow bedstraw now showing strongly, a Dacian link to the huntress Diana but here, as the name suggests was added to bedstraw in times past to ward off fleas. Interestingly, it can also be added to salads. I digress. Walking along the quiet road, the only other sign of life being swift shishing pelatons, lycra clad, too busy talking amongst themselves to pass the time of day. The sudden distant flash heralded a rumble of thunder. We were some distance from the car when it started to plop heavy drops of water. We ran back to the car, sitting inside watching the rain run down the windscreen, I dried my glasses and began listening to the cricket broadcast.