Six Word Saturday (2) Temper

1.2.14

Furious assault –

hail…

lightning…

rain…

Calm

Be-squalled

27.12.13

The wood invites us in; blurring the boundaries between light and dark as coldness draws us into its perceived warmth. We start to walk through. We notice that no trees have toppled here – unlike a less exposed place where we counted 30 fallen trunks the day before. As we reach the other side, drops begin to fall – bouncing from the branches, halting our progress. We take shelter under a tree, then behind it as the weather worsens. No use. We try to move around and away from the brisk needles of ice, my back is flat against the bark as a vicious wind threads in and around the trees. A similar sized guardian of the wood sways to and fro in front of where I stand and I feel an uneasiness rising within me. A refuge no longer – this place holds malice.
Then, as suddenly, peace returns and the squall has gone.
forest track

Flash Ahhhhahhhh

2.8.13
Summer is not evident from inside the Indian restaurant. Giant hail, lightning storm and flash floods leave the high street outside like a river and various emergency vehicles crawling by with blue lights flashing.

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