Caprice

Autumn light has a chunky, otherworldly quality: the sunlight comes from a lowering star; the warmth arrives slowly and goes so quickly, dead-on-the-dot at sundown.
This morning, looking through the leaded panes of our double glazed windows, the light was like slabs of hotel butter stacked on the tiles of the opposite houses, chimney stacks making long aerial scarecrow shadows.
But the wind was violent, capricious and switching direction by the moment. The big Union flag in the house across the way was whirligigging round and the whole white flagpole swaying like the mast of a schooner in a 1950s film.
The telephone wires that radiate out from the pole across the street, usually immune to wind were whips; demon’s skipping ropes jerking and line graphing as if they were being walked by the finest of Chinese acrobats, invisible ones at that!
The wind carried a huge whales entrails of cloud over the estate; grey-purple and malevolent. The ground became a darker, enchanted by dark spells, but the wind charged on, ricocheting from invisible walls. The tall Lombardy poplars swayed, aspen branches panicked, throwing their white gloved hands to the sky in alarm.
“No chance of getting up to the allotment this morning, then,” I decided as huge bullets of rain hammered the panes, making snakes of water that chased and joined, chased and joined down the glass. The ghostly sounds of wind moaning and whistling a melody to the rain’s fast bass.
Ten minutes later the rain had cleared, the butter sunlight was back and I spent a good two hours digging and sorting potatoes. We are having a poor year for potatoes this time around. The cold weather, blight and some almost-mutant strain of underground slugs has frustrated growth and holed the tubers.
I need to find out more about these slugs. Firstly because I am curious … and secondly to find a way to deter them!
I would have loved to see a friendly blackbird, thrush or robin out on the ground, making a natural snack of these critters, but the wind was still rushing about and, apart from one fast-flying woodpigeon, there were no birds to be seen.
1th September, 2012

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

AGENTS OF FIELD

Garden Blog of the Year 2016

Allotment Life

Welcome to my world: digging, harvesting and other stuff

How to Provide

for your family

Crockern Farm

The evolution of an old farmhouse, an American woman, an Englishman and their dog.

The Richness of a Simple Life

Encourage, Inspire, Empower

Green lights ahead

If you could go anywhere you wanted, where would you be headed right now?

explorethetempest

boots of salt and plow blades

heretherebespiders

blowing through the cobwebs of my mind

Milenanik3's Blog

Just another WordPress.com weblog

Karina Pinella

Writing the Wrong, Right, and Ridiculous

tea & paper

... it's all about feelings ...

quercuscommunity

Life after the Care Farm

The Cynical Gardener

The most Dangerous plant to sleep under is the water lilly

wyrleyblog

Local History for Great Wyrley and Surrounding Areas

The Renegade Press

Tales from the mouth of a wolf

The English Professor at Large

Posts about old Hollywood, current concerns

Cornelia's Blog

Just another WordPress.com site

%d bloggers like this: