When the wind blows so hard from one direction that the neighbours parasols and gazebos have started socialising, I think about the nearby seagulls venturing out for food morsels.
Leaving the nests they built for the families they're raising - and how it seems so unfair that they should have to fly into town at 100mph because the winds are jet packs that won't take no for an answer - often causing the poor sods to overshoot their intended destinations by several villages.
And eventually will come the ordeal of navigating the return flight. Battling to carve a path through unseen air forces that refuse to relent - that howl and whistle tunelessly in your ears the whole way whilst capping your max air speed to a slug-like 1mph so that fleeting visions of never reaching home already have rendered you spent.😥
Ye blasted winds! May I yet find a way to smite thee with my potent droppings!
I continue to flail in the big grey, hovering in the air with half a dead worm in my beak... to-ing and fro-ing seemingly without purpose like my wings were attached to thin sticks crudely handled by the junior stage hand who sits in the rafters.
