Super Superstition

Since I got the old bike out two weeks ago, it has rained almost every day. I've managed a few rides of twenty or thirty minutes in between bouts of heavy rain and forceful winds, but I've had to accept drizzle in the face and swept-back hair as inevitable.

Since I bought a solar panel for charging batteries a week ago, the sun hasn't really shone. I've dashed outside and set it up when brief tantalising rays appeared, only to dash outside again and bring it all back in when long infuriating bouts of rain followed. It has been wet and cold and windy, and the fire has been burning non-stop for more than a week.

So today, I tried an experiment. I went outside with a hand saw and cut up enough wood to last us three days in the stove. There was distant thunder as I sawed up the first couple of fence posts. My old opponent the wind blew playfully along the front of the house in defiance to the direction the clouds above were moving in, as if to let me know I was not forgotten, not too insignificant to be toyed with if it felt like it. It opened and closed the unlatched front door as if to invite me back inside, to concede defeat and run for the warmth and shelter. I sawed up another couple of old fence posts. Rays of sun appeared. I dismantled and turned into firewood an old door that has been annoying me for years. The sun shone brightly through the clouds that scudded faster across the blue skies.

I took three bags of firewood into the house, and took the solar panels and batteries outside into the sun. They are still out there, soaking up the free energy. I heard no more of the thunderous mutterings, and felt no more spatters of rain.

I think I am going to pay less regard to the scientific methods I have used these past few years, and go and speak to the butterflies instead, to see what they can tell me about the wind.