It’s Baltic Out There.
I don’t usually look at the weather report. About the same amount as I watch the news. I’m not a farmer, and I like surprises. Like weatherman Michael Fish, and everybody else, I was surprised by the hurricane that hit the south coast in the Eighties. Myself and Ineke were in Kent at the time, and got woken by a brick flying through our second floor window.
These days the weather is up and down like a yoyo according to my perception. Though I tend to trust my perception in relationship to time with a great deal of suspicion these days.
Anyway, I bet it’s Baltic where you are too if you’re in the UK. Or, who knows, maybe you live in the Baltic. I doubt it, but if you do, please tell me what “Baltic” is like before it starts travelling easterly. I suspect the real thing is even more impressive.
Walking into the very cold wind coming off the sea this morning I witnessed the birds carrying on as usual. I wonder how they feel temperature. Do they ever shiver? Do they squawk weather like small talk to each other?
For me, wrapped up around my core, I wasn’t suffering. In fact I was invigorated. A blast of cold air is part of life on these Islands in the winter. Even here on the balmy west coast.
It wakes a human being up.
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