Under Constable Skies

A wide-screen sky refreshed itself with menacing patterns as a distant gloaming approached. An oblique, low hanging, long dark finger spearing in from the South east. We came to the bridge. Duck! Our skipper commanded, we ducked, sweeping under with over a foot to spare. Yes, this was an adventure! No! We were not attempting a moonshot. This was adventure in a pastoral landscape, nothing more serious than a bruised roll cloud gathering speed across the horizon behind, heavy rain poured out of it.