Between the window and the bright sun is a heavy curtain of rain. Each drop falls shining. The ground becomes unstable, feet unable to direct, everything askance.
Snow settles, makes mountain peaks out of high moorland.
Darkness snuggles down; unsettled snow flies under it, throws itself into adventures.
What is best about cars in heavy weather: the view, un-squinted.
As the moors pass, snow frequency lulls. Swirls in fine polkadots dance.
Beyond this the sky whites with lightening, strikes awe.
This morning hail stones, part melt, gather frogspawn-ish on a windscreen. They have a particular coldly weighted slump as the wipers clear.
The view is grey-blue, ice-smeared, flat as a screen.
Snow settles, makes mountain peaks out of high moorland.
Darkness snuggles down; unsettled snow flies under it, throws itself into adventures.
What is best about cars in heavy weather: the view, un-squinted.
As the moors pass, snow frequency lulls. Swirls in fine polkadots dance.
Beyond this the sky whites with lightening, strikes awe.
This morning hail stones, part melt, gather frogspawn-ish on a windscreen. They have a particular coldly weighted slump as the wipers clear.
The view is grey-blue, ice-smeared, flat as a screen.
Comments
Yes indeed it is! How lovely too (smile).