Surviving the Storm

It came in on stealthy paws. First there was an unquiet stillness of the air. We could hear the murmur of the distant sea song rising. Then the wind began to blow. At first the wind was not too strong. We walked to the top of the hill, ears blown flat and fur ruffled. The horses were dancing in the fields with the wind in their tails. A wild excitement filled the air. At night it seemed that there was no storm as the wind blew from the south.
But on the third day the wind turned. It roared down the chimney and shook the windows. When we walked at night there were no stars and the rain cut at our faces like cold needles. It waited around corners, was cruel and harsh. So we curled in the warm of the house and waited too, for the calm to return.

And yesterday the dark heaviness lifted with a blue-sky and stormy day. The hawks all sat high on poles and trees, dazzled by hunger, watching and waiting. Buzzards flew like kites, tethered to rabbits confused by the storm. Small birds filled the hedgerows, all hunting, black rooks were thrown across the sky in ragged robber bands, but we still stayed curled in the warmth by the fire. It was a day of sharp contrast, of black and white shadow. At night the sky was blown clear of clouds and the small moon threw shadows again on the silver dappled ground.
Now the great dragon wind has moved on. There is almost a stillness outside. The trees still rattle with the odd memory of wind but the world is quiet and pearly gray and soft. The storm has passed while we have dreamed our cat dreams, curled happy together in the warm by the fire.