Tonight the South of England is bracing itself for a storm,the like of which has not been seen for many a year. The wind is already howling outside my window, and the torrential rain is bouncing off the road and streaming down the hill toward the sea.
Right now I'm heading for my cosy bed and looking forward to a bright new dawn!
An eerie, whispering, hissing wind plays its haunting lament in the orchestra pit of my hearth. Hard droplets of driven rain splitter splatter their staccato beat on my window pane.
Rivulets of glistening water zig zag their journey down the glass fighting in vain to intrude into the calm within.
Carried in the autumn gale clouds of ruby, gold and crimson leaves swirl in technicolor clouds, round and round, up and down, round and up and round and down . A howling gale, sheets of rain. Autumn’s anger, Summer’s wane.