Michael Collins – Wind

Outside this Wattle and Daub the wind is doing what the wind does best:  blowing the trees every which way... including loose. And the noise!  Let us personify the fury: Call the wind the Fifth Horseman. Quite fitting really. Some well-meaning, and very frightened folk, are, indeed, claiming

that this is IT! The Apocalypse! The End! And they could be right.... Well as right as anyone else has been down through the ages who has been possessed of similar thoughts. Thought along similar lines.

Still, except for the corrugated iron on the roof occasionally lifting and returning in situ, I am having a wonderful time of it. I love the wind. And the rain... Which is on its way, apparently. And the blackout has not impacted on me either. The kero lantern and the battery-operated radio/cassette

player both work just fine. Hendrix is playing now. No doubt 'And The Wind Cries Mary' will make an appearance on this Greatest Hits tape... Sooner or later.

FAST FORWARD TO NOW

Now, if I am being honest, the wind wasn't the only one crying for Mary at that time.  She once visited this Mud and Wood hut. Pretty sure that she hated it. No electricity; no 'mod cons'... Far too much of a (literally) 'earthy atmosphere'. Her words... Me?  I loved it! The open fireplace; a wood-burning stove; the internal water tank; the loft... With a mattress... And single window made with mud and the end of beer bottles to give that 'stained glass' look.

Anyway... That didn't last... Ironically as I write this there is a gale blowing.  And with no signs of letting up, there is no choice but to wait it out. And think other thoughts of woe... And perhaps to write a few poems?

Yes... What a good idea. And Mary? A tale for another time.