Weather stories
We knelt on the bay window seat, my big sister,
my little brother and me, watching the rain. As a drop hit
the patio, it formed a bubble that was there and gone in a
trice. My sister told us that the bubbles were witches, which
was to us a very plausible explanation of the magic happening
before our eyes. That was 47 years ago and for me, raindrops
are still magical.
Welling, London
