And then the weather reverted to its usual habits...

Wellington has been trying its hardest to impress me, trying to make me think it's the most wonderful place in the world to live.

Last week was glorious, with blue skies and gentle breezes wherever I went. (Well, wherever I went assuming it wasn't dark)

And then on Sunday night there was a sound I remember from years ago: the thundering of rain against a corrugated iron roof and the wind rattling the windows.

And school was back, so the commute into town became 6 kph most of the way, or almost an hour in total.

The colours were lovely, though so I was happy to sit and stare at the sea while I waited for things to move...