On Friday my part of the UK was under an amber weather warning in relation to the oncoming Storm Eunice. In some parts of the country there was a red weather warning with means 'stay at home, danger to life', so the news was full of very scary warnings.
I confess to have stopped watching the news a couple of years ago. After never being 'that person', it turned out that the frightening news about the pandemic day after day, week after week, made me 'that person' and it reduced my stress levels hugely when I started avoiding the news, particularly the television news. I do still listen to the radio news especially in the morning and on the morning of Storm Eunice the news was full of fear and dread for what was coming our way. Here in the mild middle of the country Storm Dudley had not wreaked as much havoc as he had in the north. I had a bit of a hairy drive home from work in blustery torrential rain, but it was ok with care. Storm Eunice promised more fear and potential damage.
Eunice (greek for good victory apparently.... odd choice for the name of a storm..... anyhoo....) was due to be at her worst at mid-day for us. The morning started a little breezy and I went out into the garden to bring in the bird feeders, take down the hanging basket that lives in the Whitby Arch and rescue the wind chimes. I know my neighbours will be very relieved to know that the wind chimes will be ok, I am sure they will miss them whilst they are down.
I stood for a moment to observe the garden and check for the areas that might be most at risk. There was nothing I could do to reduce this risk, but I made a few mental notes on what I might need to check first when the storm was over. There was a calm at that moment, the sun was trying to come out and there were patches of blue sky. The clouds were moving quickly overhead with that urgency that meant they had somewhere to be or somewhere to get away from. Next door's dog was barking and I wondered if he foretelling doom similar to when dogs bark before an earthquake. I listened out for bees flying backwards with a soft zzub zzub zzub. Maybe the bees have already left the area and gone back to their home planet until it safe to return. As I stood there two of my cats: Fluffy Pete and Esme poddled out into the garden. Fluffy Pete sniffed the air and started to trot across the lawn. He trots, bouncily and with great purpose but there is a point in most of his walks where the satellite goes out of range and he forgets where he is going. The satellite had clearly moved as he paused and looked around at Esme. Esme glared at him with her usual 'don't even think it' stare and he decided it might not be so much fun to see if she wanted to play chase after all.
I returned indoors and Fluffy Pete and Esme followed me in. They decided it was a good day for snoozing indoors (as are most days in all honesty) and went to sleep in their favourite places.