A
change in the weather
13 March, 2000
The weather changed later than forecast; it was at dusk that the northerly wind died down and the first line of ominous grey clouds started billowing on the south hills. The light changed as the clouds built up. To the north it was clear and pale, shafts of sun on the distant hills mingled with the scurrying white clouds. The sea under this sky shimmered silverblue. But as the clouds moved from the south, the sea was a deep jadegreen, the light heavy.
The three of us kneeled on the couch and watched out the window. We could see the rain across the harbour and the lines of wind on the sea, ruffling the calmness as they moved north. There were dinghies caught up the bay, tacking back and forth to get home before the wind grew too strong and the night fell.
It's a magical time watching a change of weather. Everything stills as the storm moves in, and the light intensifies, mirroring the changes. It's raining now, and windy, and there's the first snow of the year in the south of the country. There's an autumn feel to the evening. Deb asked where summer had gone earlier this evening, and I don't know. It seems to have slipped by with only sporadic days of heat and sun, never long enough to truly believe that summer had arrived.
I've spent the day watching cricket. Watching on the tv with sound turned down and the radio commentary on. I should have been working but the match has been poised on a knife-edge all day. It's been riveting. Just when the match (a test match against Australia) has seemed to drift out of reach, New Zealand has clawed its way back. I'll be watching tomorrow again, when I should be working. There's a slim chance New Zealand could win. I'm eternally the optimist with New Zealand cricket. That's enough to draw me back.
I may have to work all night tonight though …