I am grateful for the wind. Particularly a northerly or north-easterly. So cold that it slaps your face and wakes you up. So loud it howls like a monster in the trees. So wild that bits of tree are scattered everywhere. So fierce you can't go out without a woolly hat, your hood up and your eyes watering.
I love a wild wind. You don't get much of them in London. When you do, it clears away the pollution and the filth and cleans the air so that the city feels refreshed. The sky brightens, the sunshine lights up raindrops like diamonds and that the trees glitter.
We used to have a small dog with long flowing white hair who used to stand on the front step when the wind blew. She stood motionless, nose lifted up, the wind howling through her long coat. She had a faraway look in her eye. I used to wonder where she went.
Today I stood in the wind and was transported to somewhere ancient and wild, a time before concrete and carbon emissions.
Let the wind sweep you away!