I’ve never been one to be inspired by the urban landscape; it is the pastoral myth that has always called to my spirit. The calm of the outdoors cultivates in me a sense of peace and meditation in a manner that I find difficult to achieve during the helter skelter of the day-to-day.
Tonight, the natural world has invaded the city in one of the few ways it still can – with the tantrum of a storm. I enjoy the restlessness and anticipation of the coming assault on our comfortable existence, and glory even more in the solitude and comfort of my home. The pouring rain and blustery winds make it difficult to leave the welcoming cuddle of blankets and mug of steaming tea, but before I can enjoy the warmth of my bed I must ensure the comfort of my dog.
As we walk, collar lifted and shoulders shrugging against the wind, hands buried deep in my pockets, the rain frosts into snow. Large clusters of sodden precipitation blow all round us, obscuring the ugliness of the city and concealing its sins.