You can most easily spot the newcomers on our island on a rainy day: they are the only ones holding umbrellas.
In the middle of the Irish Sea, the rains here are accompanied by terrific winds that will tear up an umbrella – however sturdy – within minutes. There’s just no point in bothering and you learn that one pretty quick.
Today, Kitts and I had a girls’ home day: we stayed in jammies and alternated biscuit making with watching Zoella and trying out Pinterest crafts.
My absolute favourite kind of day.
At one point though, we stopped making to look out at the garden.
Our attention was caught, first by the rain that was noisily pelting the glass, and then by a tiny robin, skipping happily amongst the flower beds.
“How do birds cope in rain like this?” I wondered aloud, “Don’t they get soaked?”
As we watched, I noticed that the robin hopped a few times, then shook out it’s little feathers – a full body shake that resulted in a fine spray of water.
Hop – shake – hop – shake: the little bird had it’s system and it was working a treat.
And I was reminded of tough days: days when the rain comes down harder than you’ve seen in a while. Days when you reach the evening and feel like your system crashes into power-saving mode, because there’s no more of you left to give.
I was reminded of a God who promises to be with us in sunshine and storms: who never leaves nor forsakes us, however noisy the rain.
And I was reminded of the power of shaking out your waterlogged feathers and hopping on some more.
Because as little robins know: the sun always comes back out eventually.