It’s quarter past midnight in the middle of June and almost Alban Hefin (midsummer / Litha).

The rain is coming down heavily this evening.

For some reason, I’m drawn to walk up the garden to my shed.

My shed is a very special place for me. I insulated it, boarded it, painted it, re-roofed it, repaired it and generally put a lot of myself in it. It’s become an almost spiritual place for me – quiet and peaceful – a retreat if you will, where I can shut out the world, the noise, the phones, internet and all that stuff.

Anyway, as I walk up the garden, I catch a glimpse of something moving near my feet. I stop, somewhat startled! It’s a lovely frog – enjoying the fresh rain.

I continue up the path to my shed. Inside there’s the beautiful sound of muffled rain on the felt roof. Not harsh, like on a caravan or tin roof, but a soft, soothing sound that makes you aware of the rain but not overpowered by it.

It’s a mellow, protective, feminine, almost meditative sound that entrances me and makes me feel connected again to the natural world. Suitably refreshed, I walk the few paces back to the house, saying ‘hello’ as I pass the frog!

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