5.15 am. Wild and windy outside.

The wind is howling around outside, and I woke up a short while ago peeping out through the window, to see white snowflakes mixed in with the rain whirling round the street lamps. We call it sleet.
It’s also collected on the windscreens of the cars parked outside in the road.
I’ve crept downstairs to sit by the fire and have a mug of tea with a biscuit.
It’s cosy.
Thankful to be sheltered, warm and dry.
This storm is called Arwen.
No idea how they decide to name them.
The news last night had warnings of severe weather further north along the east coast running from Scotland down to England, and in Wales. There are no trains now running north of Newcastle.
Shadows from the flickering candle I lit on the hearth are dancing on the wall. I will go back to bed shortly and try to have a bit more sleep snuggled up under the duvet whilst Arwen makes her noisy presence felt outside.

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