Yesterday, as I was carrying my bike up the railway stairs after cycling through the rain, close to home, I saw an elderly woman leaving her house all wrapped up against the rain. Like some significant coincidence, we smiled in the rain and started the ritualistic conversation about the weather. Just that, we both knew, yesterday was not a day to complain, even about floods, incessant rain, the misery of the mist: "Mustn't grumble," she said "with what's happening in the world right now,"  "we don't have a right to, do we?" I finished her sentence. She nodded gravely and I almost cried thinking of Pakistan/India/Afghanistan and Mexico/Guatemala. Then she gave me a spirited smile: "But we would love to moan anyway!" and we parted.

Today, as I was carrrying my bike up the railway stairs after cycling home through the glistening sunshine, close to home, I saw her leave her house again, all smiles: "and now we want to have more of it!" "And I'm sure we will!" I tuned in, a bright smile on both our faces, echoing the sunshine after the deluge.