WhatADifferenceADayMakes

By Veronica

Blowing a gale

Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion,
Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,

Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
On the blue surface of thine aëry surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
Of the horizon to the zenith's height,
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge

Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy congregated might

Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!

Percy Bysshe Shelley: Ode to the West Wind

You can tell the weather's been bad -- I've done indoor blips five days running, which is unheard of. This morning the rain was gone and clouds were tumbling across the sky, so I wrapped up well and went out. I didn't stay long though -- the wind was so strong I could barely make progress when I was heading into it, and it was difficult to stand still enough to take photos.

I hesitated over my blip; I accidentally underexposed this photo, and liked the result very much, but maybe it's because I was actually there and could see how the pylon was shining in the low sun against the rolling clouds. So did I choose the right one to blip?

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