Yet more gales

(Click to enlarge)

Over the crest of the hill.


Toward Lindisfarne.

If I thought the gales of the last few days where a little concerning it seems I was mistaken for apparently the worst has yet to come. The wind speeds Saturday through to Monday where in the low 30's but commencing this afternoon they are set to gust at up to 80mph..... thus far though we have been lucky in our little patch of Scotland.

On the west coast the situation has been far worse, Cumbria has suffered severe flooding resulting in the sad deaths of three people, millions of pounds of damage has been done to property and thousands of those resident in the area remain without power for the third day.

On Saturday as I drove my little car to work, battered by high winds and torrential rain I thought it could get no worse, that was until yesterday morning when things had progressed from 'challenging' to 'very challenging' and any driving skills I have acquired over the years where severely tested.

The journey was odd in that it felt a little surreal. The extreme conditions seemed to have disrupted the day to day operations of the natural world completely and confused the hedgerow inhabitants. The roads where littered with debris from trees that had suffered from the continual battering, it was apparent that overnight, local farmers has been forced from their beds to remove, by whatever means available, a number of mature trees felled by the strength of the wind and in parts rainwaters stood deep enough for me to have to crawl through, barely moving and wondering if I would make it to the other side without it overflowing the height of my car's sill and rendering me 'paddling'.

The wildlife was behaving in an unusual manner, creatures normally not evident at this time of day where still scuttling about manically, bedraggled rabbits were runnig along the hedgerows, birds normally soaring gracefully were buffeted inelegantly and two barn owls sat staunchly on a fence post, looking statuesque despite it being way past their bed time! As I struggled against a vicious sidewind over the Tweed estuary, which had broken its banks flooding the nearby fields, the resident swans, who have by this time normally moved off to go about their days business sat huddled and floating in places they don't, as a rule, have the opportunity to float!

What was most surreal was the view. Toward the end on my drive each day, as I come over the crest of a hill I am greeted with a wonderful panoramic view of the bay, the pictures above show part of that view, the whole town lies before me, it's red roofs set against the deep blue of the sea, the island of Lindisfarne sits on the horizon with it's lighthouse blinking and sea and sky merge into one indefinable background.

Yesterday morning as I cleared the crest of the hill the view was changed dramatically to a sight I have never before been witness too. The sea, instead of blending with the sky into one backdrop of blue, was brown, a sandy brown, churned up by hours of pounding from heavy surf fuelled by the winds, not just along the coastline but as far as the eye could see to the horizon and up the entire length of the estuary in the opposite direction.

The impact was phenomenal, and a sight I am at a loss to describe adequately. The light reflecting off the strangely coloured expanse of sea coloured everything, the whole town and view appeared entirely changed and surreal, dark and foreign to my eyes, it felt oddly threatening coupled with the sound of the wind howling around me and I was reminded of the horrors unfolding in Asia and of the absolute power of the natural world, the forces of nature against which we, who are so used to being in control of our lives have no strength or weapon.