Monday, 12 September 2011

Wind What Wind?

Not more scaremongering, I thought as I watched the lunchtime news. The world was going to end in the next few hours, but before that, all the trees were going to be blown over.'They're much more likely to uproot,' said one weather reporter. 'It's the leaves - makes them heavier and more susceptible to falling over.'

Ha, ha, I thought. Another exaggeration, as I went out the door and promptly fell on my backside. It was a strong wind. Must have been to lift a 17 stone 1 metre 99 lump upwards. I came down with a bang. Thanks to the last few months of rain, there were no injuries except to the grass. A buttock sized indentation remained as I pulled myself up. I made a mental note that it might need re-seeding next week.

As I looked around there was devastation of the floral kind. The trees had dropped branches. The rose frames were across the other side of the garden. The autumn crocuses were flattened, looking like the aftermath of a gladiatorial contest.

And then there was the joke...the joke which nearly had me ... it was not possible ... the wind couldn't have been  that strong to...

... lift someone off their feet and put them head first into a dustbin. Then a smiling child's face confirmed that it could not have happened. Though the wind was strong and though reports were coming in of difficult driving conditions, there was no way it was that bad.

A caravan had been flipped over. Caravans are always the first casualties. Whether it is design or driver or a combination of the two, they turn over in high winds, block the carriageway and force the road to be closed. The bus drivers were reporting their buses weaving all over the road. I was glad I wasn't driving. It would not be much fun. You are always fearful when the bus starts to wander that you will lose all control.

The winds are forecasted to get worse. If that's true, spare a thought for the driver of the night bus.

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