The nor'wester — usually mild in temperature, strong in force — blew hard around the house last week, rattling the corrugated iron sheds, thrashing the trees. This silver birch had seen it all before and just took the whipping with equanimity. Eventually the wind eased and the rain came — a heavy, determined rain. The river rose and raged, burying its bed under a dun-coloured torrent. Then the southerly blew in, bringing bitter cold, a little snow to the southern Ruahine. The stag started roaring.
All content © 2015 Pete McGregor