Recently, I have heard weather forecasters, dramatically, speak of bands of rain "marching across the country".
On shrubs this morning, the early sun lights up lines of raindrops so that they look like Christmas decorations - the minimalist ones of one colour only.
A man in a flat cap and rain jacket walks towards me. He is smoking a pipe, rare nowadays. As he puffs past, I catch the sweet, almost forgotten scent of pipe tobacco.