Wonderful weather

Although the weather today has been anything but wonderful for those where flooding of their homes and/or livelihoods is a real possibility, it's been the sort of day that I love being indoors and looking out upon. It's been a "desk day", compiling next month's Benefice magazine, and even now at 11.30 p.m. it's still not finished. However, I'll get it in tomorrow's post so the printer's will have it Monday morning. And as the wind howled and the rain pattered against the window, I gazed out and just enjoyed it.

It has to have something to do with being brought up in Brighton, and the gales that would sweep in there and funnel up the narrow streets. On some really wild nights, when it was high tide, I would borrow my father's car and drive over to Rottingdean where the waves would be breaking over the promenade and heavy spray drifting across the crossroads. I would drive down to the end of the sea road and sit and watch the waters crash and thunder, windscreen wipers on, sluicing away the spume and seaweed that was being thrown up. I always made sure I washed down the car the next day, otherwise the salt would eat through the paintwork. But I really miss waking up on a stormy south-coast morning and hearing the seagulls crying overhead, and opening the front window of my small flat and tasting the salt in my lips. Whenever there's a stormy day, or I go to bed with the wind whistling in the eaves, Brighton comes to mind.

But for today, working at the computer, the light burning steady in the window against the rough and tumble outside was a sign of calm and hope and sanctuary. And somehow it felt right.