Gales blew in across the Forest today and whipped the trees into a frenzy. As I pushed against the wind to cross the fields, carpets of fallen brown leaves lifted into the rushing air. Hay refused to stay in neat piles and scattered across the grass. Hungry ponies had to work for their breakfast, following rolling wisps of hay until they caught up in the twigs of a boundary hedge. An old, dying blackthorn tree had cracked in the night and now lies, half broken , across a fence , waiting for its final journey to the bonfire pile.
As soon as I could, I gratefully came indoors. The sound of the wind rushing through bare branches and the rattle of roof tiles made an unnerving background to the hours. I spent several hours sorting out cupboards. A job I do not relish but something useful for a day not designed for outside things.
The dogs had the quickest of walks today. A brisk trot up to the heath for Old Dog. There were too many creaking tree branches in the lane to venture far.
The cats chose to stay inside. Lucy played chase with her catnip mouse but then decided to investigate a sweeter smell from the top of a bookcase.
All day the wind roared across the fields. It was a relief that the tall and spindly eucalyptus was no nearer to the house as it thrashed and swayed violently from left to right, hissing its silver leaves across the crazy sky.