Storm Ophelia

As I write, the wind is wuthering around the house and through the bent, protesting trees, making a noise like a wailing child.   The sea is a frothing mass of white waves, crashing against the rocks and spewing up in great dramatic arcs. I cannot capture the power of the elements on my mobile phone, the camara flattens everything as the strength of the gusts blow me sideways. Small birds have gone to ground and the larger ones are flapping and anxious.

The phone lines were the first thing to go, but miraculously connection is now back. I am woefully unprepared for a sassy storm that did not want to be demoted. I dread the electricity going down as I have a log burner, but I am out of logs and would be wary of lighting an unreliable old stove in these winds.

I only moved a few miles yet I am experiencing weather so much more exaggerated and  extreme than a town house that I might as well have moved to another country.

It is exhilarating to watch a storm raging from a warm, sunny room, behind glass, but I realised, when I only just had the strength to shut the back door against the wind, how terrifying it must be to be caught in a real hurricane. Powerless, small and utterly helpless as your house and possessions are blown to smithereens in seconds.

I live by the sea but I am not (quite) perched on a cliff top totally exposed to the elements, yet this storm has made me realise it is wise to be organised for extreme weather at all times, especially if you live down a long rutted track lined by large trees and you drive a Mini.  Maybe, a permanent stack of logs, milk and bread in the freezer and a little camping gas stove… just in case.

I have delivered my completed book to my editor and I am in that strange post-finishing book trance of slight exhaustion and vague unwillingness to address all those boring domestic tasks that have been on hold- while I await an edit and a fresh pair of eyes…

Books!

I much enjoyed The Tenth Gift by Jane Johnson.  (Court Of Lions is on my beside table)

As is, The Lost Estate by Henri Alain-Fournier.

Good Behaviour, by Molly Keen ( A little master class)

I am listening to Behind Her Eyes, by Sarah Pinborough. It is riveting!

I am loving Travels in a Dervish Cloak by Isambard Wilkinson. It was a present and all the more precious for that.