The gentle rush of rain breaks the silence, soon joined by the cat lapping — unseen. Then both are gone; I watch the miles thick cloud parading overhead, dark autumn leviathans shunting in from the west. Yes, sometimes the silence gets to me, it isn’t what I crave. A silent mind is creative, some say, then how is darkness a friend?
In a time where we would appear to be experiencing ever more unusual weather and strange atmospheric phenomena, this story grabbed my attention more than others.
I have to confess I have never heard of the ‘foehn effect’, nor do I admit to understanding it having now digested the information, yet when temperatures in northern Scotland briefly reach nearly 17 degrees C overnight, it makes you pause over your morning coffee. And this at a time of year when the average overnight temperature is around freezing point.
My only ‘experience’ of such unusually warm winter weather was when I was a baby, according to my late mother.
Apparently, it was warm enough one dark January evening for her to sit by the riverside in her short sleeves whilst watching me in a pram. Even if such memories did distort the truth over time, I saw no reason to disbelieve her.