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Calm After The Storm

After the consternation borne from anticipation of and experiencing yesterday’s meteorological mayhem, today I’ve woken to blue skies and almost breezeless serenity….. And no, I’ve not flown to Tenerife to get away from that god forsaken storm.

I’d suggest flying around the UK’s airspace on Sunday would’ve been akin to spending hours in a giant cocktail shaker. An experience where, unlike James Bond’s vodka martinis, passengers would’ve ended up both shaken and stirred!

With it’s fearsome gales and precipitation, I’d guess the only friend secured by Storm Ciara were millinery manufacturers. An industry whose upcoming sales will take a boost after hundreds of people’s hats were blown into next week…. Unless these individuals are prepared to wait until next week to retrieve them, of course.

I drove to York yesterday afternoon during the height of the storm. Although my journey took forty minutes, my ‘lucky’ trilby, which blew from my bonce when I climbed into my car, got to the destination significantly earlier.

Finding the hat on the doorstep of my destination the sort of serendipity which earned the headwear its moniker of ‘lucky’ trilby. That being said, with tripping over the hat and banging my head on the host’s front door, my good fortune clearly didn’t last long…….. Consequently, this morning I’m sporting a bruised forehead and ego, along with a trilby adorning my size nine footprint on it’s peak and question marks over it’s nickname

Incidentally, in the half hour or so since I wrote of Yorkshire’s weather being reasonable February fare, the clouds clearly enjoying yesterday’s get together, have regathered. Rain is now falling and with an increase in windspeed, it appears weather gods Lucy Versamy and John Kettley have deemed there’ll be no further opportunity today for my attainment of solar ray sourced vitamin D.

That being said, I’m not going to fret or frown at this turn of events. After all, I’m indoors nursing my sore forehead and flattened trilby. Consequently, unless wind levels reach those of the fictional wolf outside the three little pigs straw and wooden abodes, subsequently blowing my house down, I’m hoping to stay warm and dry

As I commence this paragraph, several small garden birds appear to be breaking minute branches from a tree in the adjacent garden. I’ve many knowledge voids when it comes to the topic of ornithology, but I think these diminutive avians are chaffinches who’re scavenging for materials of which to construct their nests.

Unlike their human counterparts in the construction industry, they don’t adorn hi-viz jackets or hard hats. Health and safety edicts are obviously laxer in the avian world, although I suppose the lack of hats maybe a consequence of yesterday’s gales.

In the shadow of a large cordyline tree, these chaffinches work tirelessly. Evidently unfazed by the lack of health and safety precautions, they beaver away to ensure their nests are fit for purpose in time for springtime when eggs are laid…… I can only hope their snagging list isn’t as extensive as my house on construction.

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Perhaps I was a bit hasty when being so dismissive about health & safety edicts in the avian world!

 

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