As I started to type this post after writing the heading, it brought to mind a rhyme my father used to say to me all of seventy-five years ago. I used to pester him to tell me again and again.
It was a dark and stormy night.
The brigands and the chiefs were
assembled in the cave together.
The chief said unto Atonio,
"Tell us a story!"
And it started like this:
It was a dark and stormy night,
the brigands and the chiefs were.......and so on.
Anyway, enough of that. It was a stormy night here last night and the wind was up to howling force.
This morning the evidence was everywhere, not least in our farm gateway, where there was a sleeping policeman of pine needles which the farmer had to move before he could get the car out and go to fetch the papers. Now he is on with the task of sweeping them up. I have just sneaked out and taken a photograph of him doing just that.
Now, at ten in the morning, the wind has abated to a light breeze and the sky is gradually clearing; the storm clouds floating away out east (watch out for them Thelma) and puffy clouds and blue sky taking their place.
As usual, Autumn (and October in particular) is capricious.
The farmer has just come in for his lunch and to say that he has just seen his first flock of fieldfares for the Winter - about fifty or so birds here from Scandinavia. They were settling in to eat the hawthorn berries; they will demolish the whole crop and then move on to pastures new. Such a wonderful wild-seeming bird - almost exotic - and always a delight to welcome.