Water, Water, Everywhere

In the sky, falling and rising, on the ground and beneath it, Buxton is wet. But then it should be. It’s a spa town. From there water is flogged all about. But it should be cheap. After all rain and water is free. There is a fountain in the centre of town where you can refill a jug or two, for this rather pleasing price. But anywhere else, you have to pay for it. People used to come to cure themselves here, or to get some sort of health from the water. This place is the opposite of a desert. It even rains in summer. It certainly rained last week.

If the world was not a globe and just a sheet of land, the weather everywhere would be the same. But its not and probably a good thing too. I don’t really want to go on holiday to a desert. Much reading was done in ‘The Servant’s Quarter’s’ (the house where we stayed), and justified by the weather. There’s a lovely second hand book store there too, where I ended up getting more books than I read, which might be an eternal problem if I ever want to finish my book collection. But there’s always another book out there to read. And I shall find it.