—inside the weather systems too, you know. As in tropical cyclone Lusi finding his/her/its way down from the tropics to clobber us in New Zealand. Hard luck, it’s a long way down and cool enough here to slurp and dissipate her energy.
Storms used to be named after women. I admired and liked that, it seemed very apt. And then some PC twat got in on the act and decided that in the interests of sexual equality men should have a fair go too—after all, men can be just as awesome and terrifying as women, no? (Still ‘awaiting Cyclone Argus though …)
Lusi of course is the fat blobby bit in the middle. Not a major, I live down the bottom and she’s losing oomph with every passing southbound minute. And if you go there and want closer ups on any of those zones, click its name.
SO ALL LUSI GAVE US
thus far has been a few mild sprinkles. But in accordance with current enthusiasm I galloped outside with tripod in hand and song in heart, where despite the bone in the teeth (wind) I managed to capture yet another raindrop-reservoir nestled deep within (inside …) the arms of a leaf. As here—
—which whilst no great shakes as a shot is still an insider’s view.
As a kid I used to wonder about those little hills of water, ‘cos water whilst being wet also used to run everywhere and making a pile of it wasn’t easy. And here, in a leaf, is a collection of (albeit little) piles … Dad pointed out wee bugs that walked boldy where no man dared to go (not for the last two thousand years) across the surface, and showed me how to float a needle. Okay, it wasn’t really floating but it stayed on top without sinking either … dunno what you’d call that. Miracle, I guess, to some—I’ll bet ol’ Archimedes would have had a problem with it* .
* Wasn’t he the original Eureka Streaker? Oops … and: I like Clumsy Carp in the BC comics. Despite being able to trip over shadows he was still droit enough to make waterballs the way we mere maladroits make snowballs.