It’s raining here, weather says, ‘ mostly cloudy’ with constant rain, gusts of wind and the windows panes are shivering and banging and thuding against eachother and the other side of the pane looks like it is inside a shower.
Adventure, that is what I feel at moments like this; just realized that ten minutes is rather a good bit of time.
Sydney rain is punctual I must say, grey blue clouds would come gathering over the harbor bridge making the wharf look anything between stale grey, dark blue, pale green to black, yes black. You have to see it to believe it.
The wind literally howls in here, and on very very quite days, may be it is my imganination, but it seems I can hearthe clouds rolling above in veryu very low grumble.
First, the CBD will dispappear, the Sydney tower, then the white Opera house, then the sea will slowly vanish under a grey mist that will settle there. Once that happenes, the whole of Sydney becomes a place of dream, for beyond those thick fogs, there could be Sauron’s castle, there could be the angry world of Mordor, there could be The Flying Dutchman or there could be Lookfar with Ged sailing on it to the Farthest shores of teh Archipelago.
Then the rain will brust outof the sky, and while I write there will be this constant gush of the wing and chatter of water onthe window. I miss ginger tea. And 10min over.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ready, Set, Done!.”