Well, that was a bit rough! It’s a turbulent day, weather wise, rain, with a strong gale-force south-westerly blowing, and we’ve just had a squall pass through. The wind howling and blowing water under the garage door and the back passage door, roaring in the chimneys, and making the lights flicker. So I sit here with a mug of hot coffee and chomping on de-frosted a chocolate éclair and watching the cobwebs get blown away. I love weather like this. Put it down to my growing-up in Brighton where the “sou-westerlies” would scream in from the Atlantic and hammer into the sea-front. I would go down to the beach and watch the waves surge onto the promenade, the sound of the moving shingle almost deafening. On really rough days I’d head out to Rottingdean where the spray would drift across the road, and where you would continually have to lick the salt from your lips. If I was feeling in need of added excitement, I would make my way along the Undercliff Walk, a path some 10-15 feet wide that ran from East Brighton’s “Black Rock” the three or so miles eastwards along to Rottingdean. That was fun at high tide, for the waves would break over the walkway, and you would have to dash from one raised seat to the next to avoid them. It only ever caught me out the once, when I misjudged the wave on the narrowest part of the Walk. It was a wet and cold walk back to my flat that day.
The Global Warming predictions say that the weather is going to get more extreme. If you’re in a safe, dry house, then it can be enjoyable, but for those whose homes get damaged, or who are homeless, or who have to work out in such conditions, I do have sympathy. But I still look forward to experiencing more wild weather.
Well, that was a bit rough! It’s a turbulent day, weather wise, rain, with a strong gale-force south-westerly blowing, and we’ve just had a squall pass through. The wind howling and blowing water under the garage door and the back passage door, roaring in the chimneys, and making the lights flicker. So I sit here with a mug of hot coffee and chomping on de-frosted a chocolate éclair and watching the cobwebs get blown away. I love weather like this. Put it down to my growing-up in Brighton where the “sou-westerlies” would scream in from the Atlantic and hammer into the sea-front. I would go down to the beach and watch the waves surge onto the promenade, the sound of the moving shingle almost deafening. On really rough days I’d head out to Rottingdean where the spray would drift across the road, and where you would continually have to lick the salt from your lips. If I was feeling in need of added excitement, I would make my way along the Undercliff Walk, a path some 10-15 feet wide that ran from East Brighton’s “Black Rock” the three or so miles eastwards along to Rottingdean. That was fun at high tide, for the waves would break over the walkway, and you would have to dash from one raised seat to the next to avoid them. It only ever caught me out the once, when I misjudged the wave on the narrowest part of the Walk. It was a wet and cold walk back to my flat that day.
The Global Warming predictions say that the weather is going to get more extreme. If you’re in a safe, dry house, then it can be enjoyable, but for those whose homes get damaged, or who are homeless, or who have to work out in such conditions, I do have sympathy. But I still look forward to experiencing more wild weather.
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