I had a bad sleep last night. Storm Abigail blew in to Beetley, and strong winds swirled the leaves, and battered the house. When you live under two large oak trees, one at the front, the other at the back, you can become very edgy about falling branches, as you listen to the smaller twigs and debris clattering down onto the roof. At times, I heard the gusts continuing to build, rattling windows, and banging outside doors in nearby gardens. The breaks in the wind only served to increase my trepidation of its return.
This morning, the wind had dropped significantly. The grey clouds have been moving rapidly across the sky until blue could be seen, and some brightness returned. However, it appears that this is the proverbial calm before the second storm hits. The BBC weather team have continued with their new idea of naming storms. In alphabetical order, using actual names, they have decided to call the next one Barney. Ten minutes ago, they were forecasting winds of up to 70 miles per hour. The warnings of damage to trees and houses, problems on the coast, and widespread disruption to roads were delivered almost gleefully. They love to have really bad weather to talk about, and they always seem to get it right, the worse it is.
So, we will be battening down for Barney tomorrow; watching the trees, and hoping for the best.