Hail Storm in Fiddle Wood UK MVI 8441 Copy 4

  Winter 2024 to 2025 Spring, it being a very mild winter indeed. We had a flurry of light snow that did not lay and here the hail storm i recorded that hit the garden and sounded like pea gravel hitting the large bird bath on top of an iron work garden table.  BB 

Windy Wet Sway

WINDY WET SWAY written and presented by Paul Howes

Copyright 15/10/2024

It being now the forth day of heavy rain I awoke and climbed down the stairwell that led to the stone clad flooring of the great hall, that in pleasant agreeable measure guided me onwards to more openings along its cold to foot stretched out stone pathway. i entered the kitchen area with table set into place where heavy topped cupboard's ran the walls where they could. The cooking range here it seemed held its royal court and even the washing machine and drier bowed to its every hot scaled whim of sudden directed desire.  However the great triple window above the royal sink of wall to wall display looked out upon that delightful courtyard now superbly awash with its cast iron drain covers gulping the liquid down as if that were the refreshment for overheated  heads and thirsty mouths. Pirates came to my mind, but i left that thought for another day and story tales to come.

My Mrs B, was busy drying the cups and mugs, as i  entered that warm welcome kitchen and as we two looked out through those triple glass windows that had seen so many sights well before i arrived here over twenty six years ago. The high wind being such as it was,  i remarked. 'Just look at those leaves upon all those trees heaving about driven madly by the speed of such a wind swept storm. See how they, the largest set into place tree's communicate with one another during such a down-pore as this? And in such a swaying intermixing dance with one another driven madly by such a high wind of intermixed direction. 

The leaves are shouting out to each other , "This is our last happy chance of flurry before the dark eventful fall when we will all join in the hop skip and flying about tumble below, with all the other crisp dried out leaves in full flight from Fiddle Wood, after our one and only happy stay."