This is the second day of high wind.
Leaves have been spiralling joyfully in the vortex created by the sheltered corner where the front door is.
Going upstairs in the tower is a wild experience as the buffets boom against the exposed walls.
I’ve had to right and refill a number of the tubs of gravel, stones and rubble which weigh down the pool tarpaulin. Even the heavy concrete lintels which we also use can actually be seen shifting a little.
The tarpaulin itself is an ocean of billowing waves. The spray it sends out, hurling cumulated rainwater into the air, completes the impression of being at sea.
I would love strong winds if I weren’t always conscious of the potential for damage.
Lucky old Galileo has no such worries. You can see from his expression that he enjoys the wind whipping his fur and tossing his ears like a whirly windmill.