Riding Out the Storm

 

Yet another storm.  They’re naming them now. We are only in January but already have reached the letter J.  Today Storm Jonas arrived in the area, and without seeming rude to Jonas, it really would be better if he had stayed away.  A storm by a different name but bringing the same as the others; gales and rain.  

It is becoming all too familiar now – the blanket of grey cloud that throws a half-light across the days, the sound of the wind roaring across the fields and hills, and the incessant rain beating on the windows and soaking everything, animate and inanimate, plant, animal and human.  So yet again, the wind gushes through the tree-tops flinging the branches from side to side, and rocking the trunks so violently that I am amazed that more of them are not felled by this invisible force.  The bodiless roar is almost deafening at times as it rushes along the lane, building momentum as it goes, before slamming  into the group of trees at the bottom.  It ploughs into them with a howl like a battle-cry, and the firs and birches whoosh, rumble, and clamour back in defiance. 

From its vantage point in a solitary rowan nearby, the raging battle is quietly watched by a ring-necked dove. 

I notice the dove as I finish securing the shed-door against the storm.  It sits with its underbelly covering its claws and its feathers fluffed out for warmth, hunkered down against the wind and rain.  Though the tree rocks fiercely, it simply rests there swaying in tandem with the branches, watching.  From time to time, it closes its eyes, a picture of serenity and repose amid the drama of raging forces.

Mini rivulets of water run down my coat onto my legs, soaking into my trousers, sneaking under my hood and the wetness cools my skin. My face tingles under the slaps dealt out by the wind and rain.  I head inside to the warmth and comfort there. Glancing back at the rowan tree, I am again struck by the stillness of the dove amid the turbulence of the scene.  I leave the bird sitting quietly in the tree while I go indoors to read and write and ride out the storm in my way, just as it is doing in its way.   

Around us both, the wind continues to roar and rage, and the rain fills the streams and rivers and soaks an already saturated landscape. Jonas will be with us for a while.