Sometimes I can fuss too much. Children needing showers, bedtime needing to be observed, dishes to be done. And sometimes I am wrong and need to go with the flow. And last night the flow lead us to the lake with the boat and dogs. It was raining but only that gentle rain that really can be ignored if you're distracted by other, more interesting, things. The boys were buttoned up in raincoats and life jackets and the boat was duly launched and oars taken in hand. Now, there's only so much room in that little boat so I stayed in the Landrover with the binoculars and H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald for company. Sometimes I get a book that just hooks me, straight away from the first page and this is one such one. It's nature writing at its very best as it leaves your spirit soaring, your mind full of glinting goshawk savage beauty tethered by the grief in the writing. It was perfect reading while sitting there watching the rain on the windscreen blurring the boys, the lake and the sky. Eventually they rowed back to shore and it was time to dry the dogs and head home, back to showers, bedtime and dishes but all the better for being on the water, in the landscape, in the rain.