Yesterday in the polytunnel it was discovered: a short distance of panel had blown from its fixing: swiftly mended: battened down before it becomes a hatch. Tomorrow the biggest storm is expected. Cornflower, now, this morning sky: smooth as plaster in a fine country house.
Boy goes walking to take in the blue, to breathe some dry air. As he steps up the driveway the backdrop blackens. He looks over his shoulder.
'I enjoyed that calm,' he says.
Exit stage left, pursued by cloud…
Wind catches like flames, roars over the fields. It sings in the wires and throws rain everywhere.
On the city road colours trail; finger smudges in wet chalk; neon signifiers of modern isolation; a beautiful city stoicism. In the car just me and music communing with weather and deep water hues.
Out from the city the unlit roads draw glitter from headlights. Shadow trees bend. How rain dances: silver on graphite: siren calligraphy.
|First crocus! Cheery precursor of spring time :-) |
So far the storm has brought us a polytunnel minor breach and intermittent internet:
so far so lucky...