@#%* off, wind!

Last Tuesday, it started blowing a gale. The roof shook and the walls groaned and the windows and doors rattled day and night. We woke on Wednesday to a red dawn fit for the War of the Worlds and spent the day indoors, avoiding the dust. Ditto Thursday. By Friday, the air had cleared somewhat but still the wind blew. Saturday morning brought another dust storm, albeit not as dramatic as Wednesdays. By now, our eyes were red from the grit and the insides of our nostrils constantly caked with yuck. The mulberry tree is heavy with fruit and had assumed a very tousled look with branches bending to the ground. It's on the north-westerly side of the house and therefore taking the full brunt of the wind. On Friday, I ventured out in the gale to investigate its appearance and discovered it was basically split in two at a height of about a metre.

Yesterday, Mike and I armed ourselves with bits of timber and various tools and did our best to repair the damage. We have propped up the limb that has split away (a good two thirds of the tree), getting well mulberried as we worked, and did our best to bind up the split, using a metal star stake as a kind of splint. Surprisingly, the leaves don't seem to have wilted at all, but I'm not really too hopeful that the broken bit won't need to be removed eventually. So sad, it's a lovely tree, and is loaded with fruit. The flying foxes have obviously been around by the stains on the branches and Ewan McGregor is making short work of the fruit that is falling on the ground. Whoever heard of a dog eating mulberries?

Thankfully, the wind has eased today, although I did have to chase the clothesline round and round to hang out the laundry this morning. This evening, it is almost still. Hooray!

Every plant in the garden is coated with dust. Here's a lavender in the front garden, of course the photo didn't show the dust as much as I wanted it too!

And surprisingly, amongst the dry and dusty vegetation, there was this little frog, bright green in the leaves of the aquilegia. They sit on the walls of the house at night sometimes, and sing when it starts to rain. Rain! Wouldn't that be nice! Please let it rain soon!