The rain and wind has been relentless of late; tapping on the windows, licking around the frames. The storms have brought down all but the final stubborn leaves, making the chore of raking a light relief when it comes. Pickle takes the whistling and howling outside in her stride, although welcomed Mr M's company at 4:30am when it was truly whipping up.
Whilst waiting for my train (delays due to the wrong sort of weather) the clouds, in varying shades of grey, whizzed by overhead - an urgent delivery of rain and gloom somewhere North. Once in a while, they dared to show a glimpse of blue high above.
Unbeknown, I had my own storm brewing - a full blown migraine by the time I eventually arrived at work. One taxi ride later, I was tucked up in bed - every noise dictating the direction of my broken dreams. The sun streaming through the drawn blinds. Naturally.