Stormy Times.

Today’s storm saw my garden littered with fallen bins, flying bin lids, upturned garden furniture and other random detritus. Everything moveable was being rolled, dragged and generally cast about by storm force winds. That was the start. By lunchtime the winds were gusting to near-hurricane force, and soon the sound of snapping timber and breaking glass could be heard above the blast. My greenhouse is all but destroyed and only awaits the attention of a building contractor to finish the demolition job. And I noticed that my favourite big lilac tree was listing at an uncomfortable 45° angle. Whether it will be saveable with extreme surgery in the spring remains to be seen.

And then the power went out and my cordless phone became unusable. I tried to use the mobile phone but found that the network had also been taken out by the storm. Fortunately it didn’t last long. By late afternoon the storm was easing and both phone and power were restored, courtesy of the excellent efforts of the men from Western Power Distribution. Thank you, Western Power; you were today’s only hero.

So then I went out in the rain with broom and rake to clear the lane of arboreal detritus. Some of the mothers fetching their children from school slowed and acknowledged my efforts, while others – mostly in big SUVs – drove past at speed with noses in the air. If the puddles had been deep enough they would have showered me with dirty water. It’s happened before.

Meanwhile, the disturbances which have plagued the past seven weeks, leaving my brain addled and allowing me a mere 4-5 hours sleep a night, continue. And yes, I know that worse things happen at sea. But they didn’t when I was on it.

But life goes on as ever, cosmic configurations permitting.

(We live a sheltered life in Britain, you understand. We don’t get hurricanes, serious tornadoes, major earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, or a government which sends warplanes to kill our children and demolish our houses. So we’re easily moved to frustration.)