It would be wrong to put too much blame on the sky. But I'll be honest and say many of the sights and sounds of this part of the south of France have seemed just a little more sinister since last week.
Photographing the glorious colour show that appeared last night as I looked out over the Varois hills, I found it impossible not to think of the turbulent weather that accounted last week for 25 souls not too far from here. That toll could yet rise higher since a few people are still unaccounted for.
I was fortunate, experiencing only the minor inconvenience of having to brush furiously to disperse gallons and gallons water as the torrential rain, for which our drainage system was simply no match, battered our home and garden. The power cut was a nuisance, too, but 20 or 30 miles away, cars were being swept along flooded streets, homes destroyed, lives lost. There was a baby flushed from a mother's arms, elderly victims trapped in their garages, people dying in their vehicles.
Friends who had stayed with us before moving on to the very part of central Var worst affected reported that all was well for them, though they had never seen such monsoon-like rainfall in many years of visiting the area.
My sympathies are with the loved ones of those who perished, and others left to rebuild their lives.
The terrible ordeal they have faced may help to explain why I looked with rather more suspicion than in the past at the superb spectacle set before me by nature in yesterday's early evening.