Despite the fact it’s been around 27 degrees C all evening, tomorrow looks like it’s going to be an indoor day. The winds are getting fierce outside. We have been given an amber warning about the severe weather heading our way.
The warning is the second highest:
||Green: No warnings in place.
||Yellow: Minor alert.
||Orange: High alert; dangerous meteorological conditions are forecast.
||Red: Maximum alert; severe and dangerous weather conditions. Precautions to be taken.
Most of France has escaped this “dangerous” forecast but where we are, we’ve been advised to “be very vigilant”.
Météo France, warns there will be violent winds coming from the mountains, estimated to be around 100km/h. We risk losing electricity, telephone lines and certain internet connections. Rooves, aerials and chimneys may be damaged. Branches and trees could fall and cars could be moved. We’re advised not to walk in forests or drive fast on the motorway and for the more stupid, no climbing on roof tops, picking up fallen electrical cables or using electrical items outside.
I can hear the wind outside, howling and pushing things over, angrier than it’s ever been before. I feel cosy with the shutters closed and safe inside my appartment. I wonder if there’ll be any devastation tomorrow, or whether the warnings will lose their power hopefully like the gales heading towards us…
I’m writing today… for the whole day.
With this plan in place I am going to run a bath, where my best thinking is done.
I started taking notes this morning but had to put them away when the wind threw them across the room.
The wind is strong outside, so is the sun.
I can’t open my window because the wind throws my belongings around the house, slams doors and pushes over lanterns. Yet with the window closed it’s sweltering.
Earlier, ironically, I was considering buying a fan. Introducing a light breeze with a control setting, to cut through and circulate the humid atmosphere in here. We have one large window in our lounge, where I am writing, and it’s magnifying the sun’s rays.
I chose instead to embrace the natural blasts and have attempted to sanction it for the last hour or so; opening and closing the window for short bursts at a time. But then my flowers were knocked off the ledge.
I have now had enough of supervising the wind and I have also had enough of reading writers’ thoughts on writing.
I am going to indulge in what I like doing and if that means wearing shorts and pulling the shutters closed to keep out the sun’s rays, then that’s what I shall do.
Gone with the wind.
The wind here rumbles through town like a loud, boisterous visitor.
“Fait comme chez toi, mais n’oublie pas que t’est chez moi”, says the wind by knocking things over, howling and mocking anyone who dares to venture outside.
It’s annoying. Apparently I shall grow to like it. Right now I can just hear it ruining things.
The wind sounds full of trapped souls, souls between worlds that beg to be let inside as the wind races past. The wind sounds angry, slamming things down, blasting everything in cold air as it goes and ruining the sunny day. It’s a lot like an outdoor poltergeist, invisible and haunting.
There are two principal winds that govern this area, le mistral (from the North) and le marin (from the South). A cold Northern wind that dries the air and a soft Southern wind, that brings humidity from the Med – I know which one I prefer. My research tells me the winds are violent – this I can vouch for – “notamment en vallee du Rhone” – again, yep.
An inside day today, listening to the loud rustling of empty branches whacking together, branches that are getting ready to bloom into delicate flowers. The almond trees, which are already full with white blossom, are being robbed of petals – which the wind is now playing with in the air.
Go away wind! Come back sunshine…