Sunsets help lift the gloom

THERE has certainly been more rain than is strictly necessary during the past few months. Day after day of muddy walks with Tilly the terrier, a mud-covered car, muddy boots, and too much time spent in waterproof clothing.

The odd day when there are clear skies has been really welcome, especially as it usually heralds a spectacular sunset.

Like all good moonrakers, Tilly and I have places where we like to go to witness those wonderful shades of gold, barley sugar and red as they spread across the sky. The dramatic colours disappear so fast that you have to be quick with the camera.

A Bourne Valley golden sunset lifts the spirits after weeks of cloud and rain.

A Bourne Valley golden sunset lifts the spirits after weeks of cloud and rain.

There is something so exotic about this pink and blue sunset seen north of Salisbury that it is tempting to think the photo was taken somewhere in the tropics.

There is something so exotic about this pink and blue sunset seen north of Salisbury that it is tempting to think the photo was taken somewhere in the tropics.

The south side of Old Sarum airfield is a good spot to be as the sky turns orange and then red.

The south side of Old Sarum airfield is a good spot to be as the sky turns orange and then red.

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What would you have done?

IT was high time the Happy Moonraker bought a new hairbrush. The old one had been shedding bristles at a rate of knots and was now looking decidedly uninviting. So I took myself to the obvious place to choose a new one: the local branch of a certain national chain of chemists’ shops.

After hunting for the right section, passing display after display of evil hair dyes, hair ornaments, and revolting chemical-filled shampoos and conditioners, I reached the hairbrushes.

Imagine my horror, though, when I witnessed a man old enough to know better as he removed a hairbrush from its packaging in front of me and actually brush his grey hair with it. I think my eyes must have nearly popped out of my head.

I turned to the woman behind him and said: “Well, I know which brush I shan’t be buying.” She said nothing but he said: “My hair’s clean. You can smell the Head & Shoulders if you want to.” He didn’t even buy the brush he’d used.

That just struck me as outrageous. It’s the sort of thing a bunch of rowdy teenagers might do on a Saturday afternoon.

I only wish I’d had the presence of mind to take a photo of him as he brushed his luxuriant locks. Or am I being unreasonably squeamish?