My Sunday Photo – November 4th, 2018.


We had a rather damp end to October in Norfolk but you know what that means? Lots of lovely rainbows.


Despite the weather, we decided to head to Overstrand last weekend and were treated to some wonderful sights between showers. I was desperately trying to get a photo of Freya with a full rainbow but just as it appeared about 12 people arrived on the otherwise empty beach. Typical.

She enjoyed herself splashing in the tidal pool instead.



It was quite windy and we got attacked by sea foam at one point.


Hope you’ve had a good week and a bright start to November.

To see what other people have shared for My Sunday Photo, please click on the camera below. Darren has announced that the linky will be finishing at the end of 2018 so we better make the most of it while we can. A big thank you to him for hosting for so long, I’ve loved taking part.


Somewhere over the rainbow.

Trigger warning: Pregnancy loss mentioned.


Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
There’s a land that I’ve heard of once in a lullaby.

I’m not sure how it started.

I think, maybe, on one of many sad days following the loss of my first pregnancy, I looked up to see a rainbow and felt…I don’t know, a connection? A little less alone?

When they carried on appearing all the time – I have a phone full of photos of them (although accept maybe I was just noticing them more) – I started to think, Oscar, as we named him, might be sending them.

To me, it felt like he was giving me a sign.

Initially, when I was still plagued with guilt about ending the pregnancy, I thought he was trying to tell me I had done the right thing but, after counselling and nearly five years on, when my head is not as full of him, now they make me smile.

When I see them, I feel love.

While I wish the pregnancy had gone ahead without any complications and I had remained blissfully unaware that things can and do go wrong, some good has come out of it. Not only did the hospital where I was treated alter the way they help mothers dealing with foetal abnormalities after I raised some concerns but, personally, I feel like I’m a better person – certainly more compassionate – as a result of the loss. When I think of him now there is, of course, still sadness but there is also light. A rainbow of light.

And recently the boy has upped his game. Last month I wrote about the “circumzenithal arc” Freya spotted while we were in the park – a rare sort of upside down rainbow. Today there was another rare occurrence, mother-of-pearl clouds (thanks to Merlinda for letting me know what they were) also known as colourful Nacreous clouds, which are usually seen in polar regions.

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In the past when I’ve spotted a rainbow in the company of family or friends I have mentioned, almost without thinking, that I believe they are sent to me and, at times, I’ve been given some funny looks or it’s stopped all conversation. As a result I don’t mention it now.

And that’s fine.

I get it, I do.

I know it sounds a little crazy and obviously I know he’s not really in control of rainbows (or clouds). I know he’s not really anywhere. And that they are not just being “sent” to me (thanks to Twitter).

But if it helps me find peace to think that something so bright and beautiful can be connected with an otherwise dark and sad situation where is the harm?