Northerly Winds

The weather continued wet and rather stormy as I traveled onwards, and was only broken on Wednesday when a cold north wind blew everything out for a while, though it seems rain will accompany my last days in England as well.

On Saturday I had a lovely visit with the Wimbledon group; the numbers were a little smaller than before, but we had a good discussion on the theme of kindness. I did hear afterwards that the group will be winding down, as Alan has many commitments these days, which, combined with lower regular attendance, make it hard to continue. It leaves me wondering exactly what is needed to create some enduring enthusiasm for zen in England, and I will doubtless be discussing this over cups of tea in Hebden Bridge this weekend.

I have continued to get some runs in – retreading my usual routes through the Herefordshire countryside, though it loses its charm somewhat in sheets of rain, when the red earth has become slippery mud. The Wye looks ominously full; other parts of the country have experienced floods. Nonetheless, these are the kinds of conditions that I started running in all those years ago; I might not be nearly as fast these days, but plugging on is its own reward.

Taking off from Belfast in grim conditions.

The skies in London after arriving.

Worcester from the train on Sunday.

Attendees in Wimbledon.

Brighter weather in Hay-on-Wye on Wednesday.

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