Waiting for weather.

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Sky keeps going dark grey, a sudden squall of rain then bright again, sunshine and showers.  I’m watching the trees bend in the wind, the weather station anammometer twirling in the wind. In some places round here the power is out.

As I watch the blitzortung app on my phone I can see thunderstorms trundling across the country. Their trails changing from white, yellow, orange and red. White most recent, red in the past. You can track their movement. I’m not sure if they will get here or bypass us.

The weather is unseasonably autumnal. Festivals due to be happening thus weekend have been cancelled because of the strong winds. I’m sitting here in the dark. The radio is on. My hubby is making coffee and I’m waiting for the first flash.

To paint or draw the view.

Sometimes seaside towns are all pastel colours, peaches and primrose yellows or burnt orange and duck egg blues. But sometimes only the frontages are painted, I guess because people don’t have the money to paint the backs, or the weather is generally too bad and it wipes the colour away, washes the walls and the sun bleaches the buildings.

I think I might paint the view but add bright colours? Or I could stick with a muted palette. I have a sketchbook and I’m armed with a marker pen. Will see how I feel in the morning.

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Seaside

The cry of gulls

Smell of fish and chips.

Hotel guests slamming doors

Cars blocking roads

The memory of candy floss

Mint flavoured sticks of rock.

Crying and laughing children,

Sandy beaches and pebbles

Then a sudden squall

Rain bears down on us,

Winds blow strongly,

Retreat to the hotel,

Soaking clothes drip.

Ah, a proper seaside holiday.

Thunder and lightning

After such a hit humid day Britain is now being hit by big thunderstorms. I watch an app called blitzortnung and you can see lightening strikes from around the world. He thunderstorms that we’re here an hour ago have moved up towards the North East of the country, but it looks like another line of storms is on its way up from the Midlands. I tried to take some photos but the first few didn’t work very well because my phone camera was on automatic. By the time it had decided on an exposure the flash was gone (orange coloured sky photos caused by street lamps) then I realised if I set lit on the basic manual mode I would get quicker ictures despite the view on the camera being darker. The purplish photos were from doing that. I managed to actually catch a bolt of lightning! The bright one, like daylight was just an extremely bright flash.

Now its raining again. No doubt we will have more but its 3.39am….

Goodnight

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Raining

Water is a wonderful compound, and having rain from the sky is great. The only problem is that with the effects of climate change, rain isn’t always easy to live with.

Into each life a little rain must fall is a quote from a song I think . But in this world it falls either too much, or too little in some cases. There are floods in some countries, while others see no rain for years and deserts expand. Micro bursts of rain dump a mass of rain rapidly in a limited area while the surrounding area remain dry causing havock. We have thunderstorms here that are much larger and more violent than in the past and the same is happening all over the world. And rain also causes erosion which destroys cliffs and washes away soil. When man cuts down forests the ability of trees and plants to store water and allow it to be slowly released is diminished. Rain falls in places like the Amazon which help to regulate the weather systems of the world. Now that the goverment of the country is allowing more deforestation the concern is that the weather and rain patterns will be seriously or even catastrophically affected.

Man (and woman) need to take responsibility and keep this world safe for future generations. Rain gives and takes life.

Out of the rain.

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The storm blew in from the North like a runaway train. The wind threw water against the houses. Cars were lifted up by the flood and were caught on the top of the neat hedges that lined the sides of the street. Out of the maelstrom came a figure of a small man dressed in a black raincoat. Water streamed from him, it flowed out of his sleeves and trouser legs. Tears streamed in rivers from his eyes, nose, mouth and even from his ears.

He was called Beck and he was from the North. He was a water god and he had decided to show mankind his might because of the way the World was being treated. He was angry and the storm was growing into a tornado. He had seen the way forests were being cut back, cars clogging roads, ships travelling half way across the world to deliver the cheapest sweatshop goods.

Beck lifted his arms, words bubbled up from his mouth.

Learn or die! He screamed in a high voice. Learn, or, die !