Annamometer / weather station

Spinning cups in the wind

Gale force blowing across the land

Pressure dropping

Rain falling horizontal

Waves whipped into crazy foam

Crashing over coastal roads

Trees bending over fences

Birds cowering in hedges

Cold is the storm

Ready to snow?

Gales are unfriendly

Viscious and fearful

Great, gusting blow…..

Rushing tide

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Up the channel between the islands, rushed the tide, waves pushed along the coast, great groynes had been built to stop the long shore drift washing sand along it. Seagulls swooped overhead, floating on the updrafts, silently drifting over the heads of people walking up the salty sands, scoping out victims who had ice creams or bags of chips.

The storm came out of the West, flying clouds darkening, scudding across the sky. The wind rose and fell, rose again, howling. Churning up the sea into foam, like whipped cream, the tops of the waves  were being torn off by the winds, waves curled up and over, crashing onto the beach.

A memory of Mount Fuji, the picture of it with crashing waves. That was what it was like. The lighthouse along the coast was flashing, two short flashes, then a gap as the light rotated. Seaweed was torn from its beds, wood and ripped nets were cast up on the shore. The tide rose and swamped the town. Streets were flooded. Life takes note of the raging waves.

This is all in the future. Now there is rushing water, soon there will be storm force winds.

Rains falling heavily

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We’ve been waiting all day for the rain and it’s arrived after dark, in torrents. The wind has been blowing strongly, bending trees over, waving branches, bits of twig falling on the road. There is almost a stream of water rushing past the back door. The noise of the rain drumming against the window.

In the UK we don’t have long months of cold rain or months of sunshine. We are at a position in the world where weather  comes at us from all different directions. From the East we get freezing winds and snow, from the South, warm winds and heat, from the West, Atlantic storms, or high pressure keeping frost and calm weather over us, and from the North, Arctic winds and snow. And then all of that mixes up and scrambles things even more. Makes for an interesting life!

I don’t remember…

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I don’t remember it happening. It must have been long ago, before the sky fell, before the Mirohs arrived. When I was young?

The world had been burning, literally, fires everywhere. Ice melting. One day it was cold, the next boiling hot.

I don’t remember the day we reached 3..

Three degrees of global heating. They had said two was bad, but we got it even hotter. The seas won’t rise. My Mom told me that, it will never happen said Dad.

It’s all a blur. Running from the sea, trying to find homes in the hills. Millions crushed in the cities that were not on rivers…

They could have called it the great flood, but the papers said the sky was falling. What it meant was the rains and storms, so heavy they flattened towns in seconds, crops died. We started growing rice in paddy fields, it was the only way to get some sustenance in all the wet, dank weather.

Two years of hell passed. I was growing up and worked in the fields. All of the children worked. No schools, just back breaking work, bending and shoveling.

We hated it, but we were not  polluting anymore. Life seemed to pause and take a breath…

Then the Mirohs came, an alien race. We saw their ship, huge, like a great storm cloud. They looked down at us. Like bugs we were to them. Then the killing started. The message, you didn’t care for your precious planet. So we will take it. Humanity is a pestilence. They put something in the water. Now no one can have children. In a hundred years or so…. We will be gone.

Will anyone remember us?

Red sky

Red sky this morning, harbinger of bad weather. An ex hurricane no less is on its way. Now the curl of wind and rain is arriving, heavy rain washing down the sides of the caravan, beating the roof. Trees bending in the prevailing wind so their branches form the characteristic bent double pose, like a person turning their back to the wind and leaning forward, head down to try and avoid being blown over.

Time to hunker down and keep warm while the storm whirls out to sea, its winds whipping up the waves. To shuffle as far as you can under the duvet until it is snatched away from you by human hands not the wind! Listening into the night for possible broken branches. (Only its more likely to be a damp squib as I’ve just heard on the weather forecast that it’s mainly going to track up the west coast of Ireland and the Irish Sea?)

My romantic idea of a dark and stormy night? So much for red skies in the morning!

George

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George was a good cat. If he climbed on windowsills he would carefully place his paws so he didn’t knock over the vases. If he climbed to the top of the bookcase, somehow he would not knock the books down. Even if paint was spilled on the floor he could avoid walking through it. Oh George was a clever cat. He could be seen in the window of the house. Not looking out, but looking into the room. A twinkle in his eye.

George had one bad habit. He chased the goldfish in the bowl. It would hide behind the plastic castle in the corner. Waiting for George, who could stare for hours, to get bored and go away.

One day it was cold and grey, the weather was stormy, and George decided to look out of the window and watch the trees waving in the wind. Suddenly a bolt of lightening struck one of the tallest trees. There was an almighty cracking noise, and a huge branch came down hitting the window and smashing it. George jumped out of the way just in time, his paws softly landing on the carpet. But then he saw the goldfish, it’s bowl had been knocked over. He sniffed it as it lay flapping on its side. But, instead of eating the fish he carefully gripped the tip of its tail in his mouth and ‘plop’, dropped it back into the half full bowl. Then he placed himself next to the bowl and watched the fish swim.

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.