This is the first time I have ever been defeated by the elements. Years of Youth Hostelling in the days when the hostels were shut all day and one was not allowed to travel anywhere except on foot did not defeat me. I remember staying at the Lochranza hostel on the Isle of Arran where it rained all day every day . My travelling companion and I could not stay in the hostel after 10am and before 4pm and had to tramp the paths. In those days the waterproof clothing was not so good as now, and certainly much heavier. Similarly in Iona last year , Rain !Wind ! Rain !Wind! for days, and yet well clad and warm in our light waterproofs it mattered not for my sister and me.
|Our Sheltered way to St Os|
The gales here are still raging . I will not let Heart Patient spouse out . He can use the wall and tree lined path along the ravine to St Oswalds, a tunnel of calm and shelter.But Today was not a Choir Practice Day or a Church day , so even the short trip to the Paper Shop was a no go area . Iona and Arran had no oases of calm out of the wind either but in Iona we could sit down with our backs to the rocks and watch waves and wait , and in Arran we were young!
Here in Filey -by- the- sea we remain indoors and see that the frail are not allowed out . We listen for slates falling from nearby roofs, listen to bulletins about fallen trees and watch the brackets holding up the TV aerial .
I knew a few hours in the sunshine would help my mindset today. I had the weather gear. My allotment is free from falling slates and falling trees. It was empty of punters today , beside me and our Butcher two plots away, or might have been our Electrician his identical twin. I cleared the end of last years composted manure onto my plot from its pen. That took thirty minutes, The plot was so noisy. I could cope with that, corrugated metal sheets clattering are my boundary fences. Everything is an upcycle on this site. Except my Greenhouse, where I retreated for my cup of tea , sojourn and sit with the seed catalogues and last years seed packet remains to enjoy and peruse. That is my special time on my plot. The GLASS was rattling , and I just couldn't stand the noise of it. It had already seemed a miracle that no panes had shattered so far, and when one goes and the wind enters the greenhouse, other panes follow. The slightest gap in the door was making it worse, and even shutting myself cosily out of the wind in my little glass house brought me no peace. I had to go home. I was too aware of frailty .
So I packed up and departed, and walked all my mud into Filey Library. I am so sorry ! I forgot that even though I was not in my Work boots and had changed back into my Home boots the path to the road is filthy. All the mud gets into the grooves, and I forgot to paddle in the hug pondlike puddle by the Allotment car park.
Filey is a mess . The newly formed (I think) Keep Filey Tidy group is doing a great job , but there is no point picking up all the litter until the winds have ceased. Wheelie Bins are being blown over and the litter bins are disgorging their contents as the bags blow out.
The gales are highlighters.They do show up the scale of the household rubbish incorrectly bagged and left , or dumped in the streets and not in the bins. Its always bad in the summer when the seagull population scavenges all the black sacks left by litter bins . Ill go and have a tidy up on my plot tomorrow!