Blow ye winds and crack your cheeks

The first gale of the winter (and indeed for the year) is threatening to blast the cobwebs away this night. It's 12.50 a.m. as I write, and the wind is picking up outside. Leaves are swirling, and there's a continual drumming from the garden as the rosy-red apples fall from the two old trees onto the lawn. (For lawn read moss!) The Met Office is predicting gust of up to 70 mph in the early hours, so we'll see what happens. We'll also discover if the new roof on the house is fixed and watertight. I don't fancy picking up broken tiles as well as apples in the morning. I hope the apple trees survive. One of them has a hollow trunk and main branch. I have no idea how it keeps producing such a crop as we've had this year, but it does. It's bound to snap off one of these days, but hopefully not yet. It's a lovely shape and there's a small stone buddha sitting at its base that gives the garden a peaceful ambience. If the main branch comes down, the eastern mystic will get a nasty crack on the head!