has been blowing hard from the south east for the last three days.
The shutters rattle at night, making sleeping a challenge.
On top of weeks with little or no rain, this cruel wind has the garden gasping. Monsieur F has planted rape and nearly half his field is bare earth. The plants that have come up droop in the heat.
Down at the cottage the walnuts cover the ground. I gather as many as I can. They are not worth keeping but Vita eats them and I worry they are not good for her. As I work, I feel the wind shifting. Gusts are coming out of the south west.
We are due thunder storms this afternoon (promised before, but not materialising) and I hope the shifting winds are sign that this time they will arrive.
In this heat it feels strange to be packing long sleeved T-shirts, sweaters and a mac for London. My flight leaves later today from Bordeaux and, never a good flyer, I'm not looking forward to the take-off in this wind.
