Lured out by sunshine,

not paying due attention -

looking in, not out.

Nature demands it.

I emerge from woodland to

storm clouds and rainbows.

It is testing me,

telling me not to worry,

it will be OK.

Raindrops on bare skin,

the smell of rain in the air,

out in the open

Seek shelter under

the wheel arch of a combine -

watching, listening.

Smelling tyre rubber,

harvested flax, earth, water.

It is all okay.

Eventually,

rain clears, sky blues and sun shines.

I go on my way.

Dark shade on gold flax.

White of pigeon on green wood,

cut out of dark sky.

Black rooks on white cloud.

Diamonds glint on wet crop,

a complete rainbow.

Rain dripping from leaves,

the wind in the trees a stream,

traffic a river.