The Unexpected

Wapley Hill woods yesterday, we saw a flickering shiver of mist, turning and writhing ten feet off the ground in front of dark pine trees; just water in the air, the air so heavy with water, a cold humidity, that a breath of wind stirs curtains of water to resemble ghosts.

And tonight, an ordinary teatime, a sudden mistiness, a fall of mists almost; from the landing window the valley was suddenly grey and hazy, but from the kitchen into the west the mist was golden; and then from the courtyard a gigantic rainbow, a full half-circle across the valley from Byton to Wapley Hill, brilliant and sharp; and a fainter second rainbow above it, a rare double. We stood and watched for thirty seconds, then the clouds shifted, the waters in the air moved and it began to fade.