Earthquake,wind and fire.

If my schoolday memories serve me correctly there used to be a hymn that had a line that went something like: 'through the earthquake,wind and fire a still small voice of calm'. It is many,many years since that line has come to my mind but last night we had two out of the hymn writers three terrors- more earth tremors and a thunderstorm with winds of biblical proportion that literally picked up the garden furniture from the terrace and cast it into the courtyard below. We knew something strange was going on when a startled looking Wilf suddenly rushed up to us while we were having dinner outside and started scratching urgently at the kitchen door to go in - two minutes later the sky turned instantly black and a howling whirlwind slammed into the house. We managed to clear the dinner table ( I prioritized and saved the wine bottle and glasses ) before everything that wasn't tied down started to be blown around. Thirty seconds later the table and chairs ( all metal and quite weighty ) went sailing over the parapet and deposited themselves in the courtyard grass below. I thought whirlwinds only existed in Kansas.

This morning after some torrential monsoon type rain we woke to crystal clear skies with four eagles and two falcons floating overhead. The builders came at six thirty to fix the spout in the courtyard fountain - this is now gushing away to its heart content. I say gushing because instead of a gentle, calming rippling sound the fountain makes a noise like a miniature Niagra Falls. This may have something to do with the recirculating pump which looks as if it is big enough to single handedly work the bilge tanks in an oil tanker and pushes the water out at a 'muscular' pace. I shall speak to the builder and ask him if there is anything that can be done to moderate the rather alarming rate of flow.

After last nights traumas the two boyz are sensibly taking it easy today. They are settled down outside the front door under the lemon trees and keeping a wary eye on the swallows that are milling around overhead. It seems that the unspoken canine order of the day is to conserve their energy.