Thunder and lightening. Thunder and lightening along with buckets of hard driving rain and now wind as well. I thought, in the beginning, that this was just a passing thing – that there would be croquet on the lawn tomorrow, cocktails on the verandah and the band playing Dixie in the sunshine.

This is more ominous indeed. It borders on the “sign from above” rather than the errant meteorological phenomena. All night and all day long there have been rumblings, deep throated and sounding threatening.

It’s garbage night. In the midst of a particularly violent passage in this weatherman’s wet dream it seemed that if I got the trash out at all it would have to be clad in top to bottom rain gear. And so it was that I drug the recycling barrel, which is on wheels, and carried the trash barrel to the roadside, hugging to the tree line in the faint hope that the lightening bolt, that surely is looking for me, would choose a tree instead of me, being true to it’s electrical heritage: always looking for the shortest path to home.

Giving in to that bad weather lethargy that seems to say, “Make tea, lay back and read something mindless”, I laid back and did just that, looking up now and then through the rear facing window at the darkening woods, I had to wonder if it was really daytime – that day had prematurely come to an end. Stranger things have happened.

I am given to this kind of thinking in extreme situations. It is now a few hours later. CA has left for another night assisting people as they make that final transition into the other world, and there is thunder rumbling off in the south west again. Radar shows more of the same on the way. The best I can hope for is that the lights remain on that I can continue reading this hair raising story about monsters, scientists, TV producers and strange northern lights in the frozen arctic. Yummy!