The way out.., morning rain, ordered

...or for some, perhaps. the way in.

This morning before the wind gets up, I wake to the sound of rain falling steadily outside the window, like a large crowd of people talking quietly among themselves.

In the Grove I meet Olive, who is always busy. She looks after people's animals and plants when they are away. She has a special fondness for cats. She used to make detailed life size cut-outs of them from plywood, painted in life-like colours. There was at least one looking our of every window in her house. As we part, she says "lunch calls", certain evidence of an ordered life.