Yesterday I parked my car in leafy Clifton, walked down Park Street which was teeming with hot and happy people, gazed in at the wonders of Diana Porters shop, and went to my favourite cinema of all time - The Watershed.

It somehow feels rather indulgent to go to the cinema in the afternoon. Somehow there's a subversive quality to it, a defiance of convention that the day - especially a bright and baking one - should be spent doing 'stuff' or seeing friends. I agree with the latter but it was a spur of the moment decision to celebrate getting a distinction in my current OU module and a ginger beer, chat with a friend, bar of chocolate and a movie just seemed to fit the mood.

We went saw Slow West which was rather good and I'd recommend it to anyone who likes journey movies, or any movie that has depth and layers of meaning. It reminded me that one of my little ambitions is to have a movie projector so that I can screen movies in the garden on summer evenings and chill in that ultimate luxury of al fresco movies. I've even got a little sketch in my mind of how I can configure what has to be one of the smallest gardens in town to allow for such indulgence and if I get time I'll post an image here so you can see what my little heart desires. But wait, that dream goes further. In this dream I own a camper van and take my projector everywhere to have the fun of a cinema by the sea, in a wood, or car park at the foot of a mountain. Agh, the wonders of the imagination.

Today however has brought rain, quenching the parched soil in the potted herb garden, creating fantastic sounds on the leafy canopy beyond the garden and a necessitated rushing to the garden to retrieve white sheets and pillow cases left out to dry. The house is full of the sound of birds, pattering of rain and the outdoorsy smell of water and fresh air from the sheets hanging like ghosts of yesterdays sultry abundance over chairs, and dangling from book shelves.

Some might call it unfortunate, other might think the house looks unpresentable but I'm loving the scent and the wonderful continuance of my little dream of the cinema for after all what could be better for receiving images from a projector than a hanging bed sheet?

summer rain on leaves 

brought dreams of sea rushing through

pebbles on beaches