Mist, murk and wind

Cliffs to the east of Hastings

 

We're having more than our fair share of weather at the moment.  Living in a house that faces out to sea is wonderful in sunshine - but there's a downside in the winter, particularly at night.  Yesterday a gale started up in the late evening and was howling by the evening.  It roared down our chimneys and buffeted the windows.  Tackleway, our street, is a funnel for the wind as it comes off the sea, and you feel its force as soon as you open the door.  Last night there was rain as well, and in spite of the recent draught-proofing of the windows in No. 7 rain was finding its way between glass and wood frame as it was hurled against the panes at a speed of around sixty miles an hour. 

 

The Wuthering Heights effect was enhanced by a piece of plastic sheeting that had got caught up from somewhere and landed up tangled in the telephone wires on the hillside opposite.  It flapped frantically in the wind.  Then, around 7 pm, as I was reading in the front room of the Matchbox, I heard voices and a walkie-talkie outside.  At first I thought it was a cab.  Then, looking out, I saw that there were chequered cars and policemen.  When I opened the door to see what was happening there were half a dozen police and a couple sitting wretchedly at the bottom of the steps opposite, which lead up to East Hill.  The rain was driving against them all, and the wind keeping up its usual howl.  It appeared that the woman, who was being consoled by the man, had been brought down from the top of the cliff.  They refused the invitation to come into the warmth, saying an ambulance was on its way.  

 

It's in this kind of weather that the plight of the homeless hits one hardest.  There are two or three people sleeping rough in our part of Hastings, who beg on the street during the day.  I have got to know one of them, who has now been given a place to sleep by the Council.  But he has to be out after nine in the morning and is not allowed back in before the evening.  He is meant to have cooking facilities, and a fridge, but they have not been provided.  He is a diabetic, recovering drug addict and gradually mastering a drink problem.  I am overwhelmed by his courage.  If I am hoping for better weather, I'm sure he is, with far better cause.

 

Antony Mair