Its absolutely teeming down outside
Not a word I have heard in years! The wind is literally howling up from the harbour far down below where my cottage stands, aloof on the hillside. Eeerily I think of Irish banshees, calling, mourning, grieving for their lost.
There are clouds scudding across the sky and it feels so angry. Or is that just me?
Hence I stay home, 3 days now, cocooned in my bubble and next to my open fire, piling on more wood with each passing hour.
Building word upon word, with each new thought.
Its been a tough two weeks and I have no idea why – what triggered or sustained it to be so. Yet I do know I got through it. Again.
And here I appear to be – out the other side.
Yet still it rains.
Like a persistent drone in my ear, an unending melancholy song.
Time to stream something else. I need fun.