The caber, still decked in leaves, tossing wildly.
Fighting against the morning wind.
A house cracked up inside herself.
Creaks, it's fighting to stand strong.
Stood with pride in fortitude before the war began.
Know not if it can take much more.
Poor old house is getting sore.
The wind no longer whistles.
It sings a high pitched aria.
Wind today, so talented, it can even lift the sea.
It's brawn will knock whole walls down, should they not be fortified.
Dimunitive Dawlish.
A little town decimated by stormy wind and fiery rain, but that's for another story.
The English storms in all their glory.
(C) LIVVI
Dawlish is a small seaside town between Devon and Cornwall in England. There is an area of sandstone cliffs, at the base of which the railway line runs. The direct link from London Victoria to Penzance.
If the seas are stormy the waves crash over the rail lines so in effect you are riding under the waves as they smash into the cliffs at normal high tide.
Hence,it was quite exciting going down through Dawlish.
I have done the journey several times as my mother lives in Cornwall.
Now; however the wind and rain have destroyed the train tracks, so the area is totally cut off.
They have repaired it before so no doubt once again they will fix it !