Daylight Saving and Rain
Western Australia has just adopted Daylight Saving. [This was written in 2006] I hate Daylight Saving! I know those who advocate its wondrous convenience [a little like scented toilet paper] do not begin work early in the day. I do! Thankfully yesterday was my day off. I took advantage of that fact turning my clock forward after I awoke.
This morning I arose in darkness, using my mobile phone as a torch to find the corridor light switch making the finding of the kitchen door and keyhole less of a challenge.
The Post Office clock, that I could see in daylight last week, was a blur in the dim dawn, the birds asleep in the trees, and the rooster had not risen from his perch to herald the new day.
Dinner plans are uncertain. Are having dinner between 6.30pm and 7.30pm or are reverting to yesterday's time, if not clockwise, then real-time wise, and eating an hour later, making the night short for the small minority of us, who are required to rise early.
I hung out my personal washing before noon and as I was foraging in the kitchen for lunch the boss advised me to bring in my washing as rain was hovering. To be truthful I hadn't bothered to look outdoors much. There was a party in the beer garden the previous evening … one of the girl's had a birthday … the beer garden was decorated with streamers and balloons greatly adding to the festivities. I attended … after I washed dishes and tidied up. What with that and a short night, sitting out on the balcony held little appeal.
I rescued my laundry … it was dry. Looking skywards I was impressed with the banks of clouds building up from east and west, from north and south, and surmised that rain indeed was on the agenda. I moved outdoors to the balcony and was treated to a free display more impressive than some of the organised fireworks displays ever witnessed. Lightning forked across the sky, its jagged flashes had red edges … something I had never seen. I am positive it was not a figment of the imagination as the phenomenon was not a once only show. Thunder boomed as loud as the bombs that razed London in the Blitz, rumbled and threatened to render apart the tin roof. One part of me wanted to sit and watch; the other part was a little afraid of the power in the heavens.
Just imagine if that enormous amount of energy could in some way being harnessed. We could clean the world of nuclear power, we could dismantle the dams destroying the rivers and the land in their vicinity, and we could do away with mining the black gold of coal; no longer would pollution be such a problem. I don't think mankind is astute enough to work out how to harness this energy. If they were, surely it would be implemented?
The heavens opened and it rained. Big blobs of water left their mark on the pavement until, moments later, the street was awash. I came inside, simply because the rain was making me wet. I went downstairs to see if all hands were required on the mops, but the repairs undertaken a few weeks ago were effective; only one plastic bucket was needed under a small drip.
The day wore on. The rain stopped, the sun came out. Later thunder and lightning lit the skies, and once again it rained. Children crossed the street paddling in the running water, the workmen, who were several miles out of town, came hurrying back as the lightning was too close for comfort. It was more comfortable sitting in the bar watching the pyrotechnics from a dry spot.
At bedtime, after the sun had sunk into the distant Indian Ocean, another display filled the skies. I sat out on the balcony, camera poised to take the shot of the year. Have you ever tried to capture lightning on film? I do not have one of those fancy cameras that take a series of shots, and my reaction time was too slow. I gave up. I went to bed and, through closed eyelids, was aware of the flashes that lit up my room. I slid gently into dreamland leaving behind the blue flashes and the loud rumbles.
This morning I arose in darkness, using my mobile phone as a torch to find the corridor light switch making the finding of the kitchen door and keyhole less of a challenge.
The Post Office clock, that I could see in daylight last week, was a blur in the dim dawn, the birds asleep in the trees, and the rooster had not risen from his perch to herald the new day.
Dinner plans are uncertain. Are having dinner between 6.30pm and 7.30pm or are reverting to yesterday's time, if not clockwise, then real-time wise, and eating an hour later, making the night short for the small minority of us, who are required to rise early.
I hung out my personal washing before noon and as I was foraging in the kitchen for lunch the boss advised me to bring in my washing as rain was hovering. To be truthful I hadn't bothered to look outdoors much. There was a party in the beer garden the previous evening … one of the girl's had a birthday … the beer garden was decorated with streamers and balloons greatly adding to the festivities. I attended … after I washed dishes and tidied up. What with that and a short night, sitting out on the balcony held little appeal.
I rescued my laundry … it was dry. Looking skywards I was impressed with the banks of clouds building up from east and west, from north and south, and surmised that rain indeed was on the agenda. I moved outdoors to the balcony and was treated to a free display more impressive than some of the organised fireworks displays ever witnessed. Lightning forked across the sky, its jagged flashes had red edges … something I had never seen. I am positive it was not a figment of the imagination as the phenomenon was not a once only show. Thunder boomed as loud as the bombs that razed London in the Blitz, rumbled and threatened to render apart the tin roof. One part of me wanted to sit and watch; the other part was a little afraid of the power in the heavens.
Just imagine if that enormous amount of energy could in some way being harnessed. We could clean the world of nuclear power, we could dismantle the dams destroying the rivers and the land in their vicinity, and we could do away with mining the black gold of coal; no longer would pollution be such a problem. I don't think mankind is astute enough to work out how to harness this energy. If they were, surely it would be implemented?
The heavens opened and it rained. Big blobs of water left their mark on the pavement until, moments later, the street was awash. I came inside, simply because the rain was making me wet. I went downstairs to see if all hands were required on the mops, but the repairs undertaken a few weeks ago were effective; only one plastic bucket was needed under a small drip.
The day wore on. The rain stopped, the sun came out. Later thunder and lightning lit the skies, and once again it rained. Children crossed the street paddling in the running water, the workmen, who were several miles out of town, came hurrying back as the lightning was too close for comfort. It was more comfortable sitting in the bar watching the pyrotechnics from a dry spot.
At bedtime, after the sun had sunk into the distant Indian Ocean, another display filled the skies. I sat out on the balcony, camera poised to take the shot of the year. Have you ever tried to capture lightning on film? I do not have one of those fancy cameras that take a series of shots, and my reaction time was too slow. I gave up. I went to bed and, through closed eyelids, was aware of the flashes that lit up my room. I slid gently into dreamland leaving behind the blue flashes and the loud rumbles.
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