Outside it is shouldn't be quite so dark at this time. But someone has charcoaled the sky and hidden its secrets behind ominous shadows and a devious light that seems full of secrets, some of which we may feel wary to uncover. At the moment the lighting is tentative, announcing itself half-heartedly. However, one can sense that soon there will be a revelation so bright the sky will seem scarred and gashed. I stand in my attic and look out of the new windows at a sea which appears to be in collusion with the sky - they have brewed this storm together. Just now the horizon disappeared as if they had deliberately removed that comforting pencil line that separates air from water.
I am reminded of a colour slide I took many years ago on a mountain in the Pyrenees when sheltering in a tent high up on a slope. A similar storm was pretending to shelter behind the highest peak across the valley before exploding into view like the heart of a Velasquez painting. The whole mountain shook beneath us and it did seem as if a second coming was at hand. I still have that slide and it still inspires me because when I look at it I can feel that storm again blitzing my sight yet, at the same time, opening up a view that was so extraordinary it seemed to have taken every colour in the palette and come up with colours I have never seen since.