A few weeks ago we spent a weekend at our summer house on a tiny island just off the west coast. My mum, who grew up there, had already been there a couple of weeks, and we helped her clearing away trees and shrubs from what once was a garden/small potato field. The weather wasn’t great, but it was a nice weekend anyway.
One of the days we went for a walk along one of the beaches where we used to go swimming when I was little. It was rainy and very windy, but surprisingly everyone tagged along when I insisted on going on a walk despite the weather. I thought it was nice to be out, very refreshing with the salty ocean wind in my face and the roar of the Atlantic ocean in my ears.
In weather like this, you really fell alive..
Sunday turned out to be the best day weather-wise of course, only too typical when we had to spend it all in the car on our way home.