#storm warnings

[adventuresofalgy]

The day was black, and so was the weather forecast. The agitated weather birds were flying all around Scotland issuing stark warnings, crying out as they passed overhead that Storm Éowyn was on the way to wreak havoc in the more densely populated regions of the country on Friday.

Algy was never quite sure how accurate their forecast was likely to be, but as they had issued a rare "danger to fluffy birds" alert for the area not all that far south of Algy's home, he decided to take no chances.

For the moment, however, nothing very unusual was happening: it was just dark, windy and wet, but that was entirely unremarkable in the wild west Highlands in January. So before he retreated to a place of safety to sit out the storm, Algy decided to recite a long poem for the benefit of anyone who might be listening, as he might not have another chance for a day or two…

Hopping up into an elder bush, Algy began to repeat an old poem about a storm at sea. As he lived on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, Algy was always especially concerned for the folk out at sea when the wind and the waves became really angry, and although the poem was written hundreds of years ago, and the construction of ships had changed considerably since that time, he knew that seafarers were still at very considerable risk in storm force conditions…

The south and west winds joined, and, as they blew, Waves like a rolling trench before them threw. Sooner than you read this line, did the gale, Like shot, not feared till felt, our sails assail; And what at first was called a gust, the same Hath now a storm's, anon a tempest's name. Jonas, I pity thee, and curse those men, Who when the storm raged most, did wake thee then; Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfil All offices of death, except to kill. But when I waked, I saw, that I saw not. I, and the sun, which should teach me had forgot East, west, day, night, and I could only say, If the world had lasted, now it had been day. Thousands our noises were, yet we 'mongst all Could none by his right name, but thunder call: Lightning was all our light, and it rained more Than if the sun had drunk the sea before. Some coffined in their cabins lie, equally Grieved that they are not dead, and yet must die. And as sin-burdened souls from graves will creep, At the last day, some forth their cabins peep: And tremblingly ask what news, and do hear so, Like jealous husbands, what they would not know.

[Algy is reciting part of the long poem The Storm by the late 16th/early 17th English poet John Donne, in a modern English version.]

[kwebtv]

From the Golden Age of Television

Storm Warnings - CBS - July 10, 1953

A presentation of "Schlitz Playouse of Stars" Season 2 Episode 45

Drama

Running Time: 30 minutes

Stars:

Robert Stack as Vic Flint

Arthur Franz as Larry Fleming

Robert Nichols as Eddie Patrick

Kristine Miller as Wanda Fleming

Charles Seel as Jake

Stanley Blystone as Doctor

[floridagrowngirl]

Tornado touchdown, Northern Colorado, 2015

[hometoursandotherstuff]

[soranatus]

Introducing the FANTASTIC FOUR In Marvel Rivals

[violetsorengail]

Xaden growing colder throughout the book when the one thing Sgaeyl hates is the cold

[kiksniko]

random assortment of dorym doodles. mostly orym-centric because i've been really enamoured by him lately.

there's an orym back study under the cut please tumblr i was just trying to learn anatomy don't nuke me pretty plea-

[nicky-draws]

[adventuresofalgy]

On the night before the big storm, a strange and eerie calm had fallen over the wild west Highlands of Scotland. For most of the evening there was no rain, no wind, and very little sound of any kind, but occasionally, without warning, there were strange, brief showers, light but insistent, which only lasted for a few minutes, then stopped as abruptly as they had started.

Algy felt that it was all rather unnerving, especially considering the ferocity of the winds that were forecast to hit the area in little more than a few hours' time. But a fluffy bird is rarely daunted, as his friends may have observed in the past, and so, as darkness fell, he simply sought out the most sheltered corner of his assistants' garden, in a spot where there was no risk of any tree falling upon him, and tucked himself well under the canopy of a very pretty fern, beside a substantial mass of ivy which had grown over the years to completely smother an old, low wall.

Algy was reassured by the thought that if the storm became too fierce he could withdraw further behind the dense ivy curtain, where he would be completely protected, but it was dark and dank in there, and so for the moment Algy rested on a wee pile of dead leaves and twigs at the entrance to his ad hoc refuge, and watched the waning moon rise low over the hill. As he began to doze, he recited sleepily to himself:

The glass has been falling all the afternoon, And knowing better than the instrument What winds are walking overhead, what zone Of grey unrest is moving across the land, I leave the book upon a pillowed chair And walk from window to closed window, watching Boughs strain against the sky And think again, as often when the air Moves inward toward a silent core of waiting, How with a single purpose time has traveled By secret currents of the undiscerned Into this polar realm. Weather abroad And weather in the heart alike come on Regardless of prediction. Between foreseeing and averting change Lies all the mastery of elements Which clocks and weatherglasses cannot alter. Time in the hand is not control of time, Nor shattered fragments of an instrument A proof against the wind; the wind will rise, We can only close the shutters. I draw the curtains as the sky goes black And set a match to candles sheathed in glass Against the keyhole draught, the insistent whine Of weather through the unsealed aperture. This is our sole defense against the season; These are the things we have learned to do Who live in troubled regions.

[Algy is quoting the poem Storm Warnings by the 20th century American writer Adrienne Rich.]

[zevzevarainai]

Zevran Dialogue Fix Mod

[zeldasavefile]

The magic of Majoras Mask is trying to comfort characters who are grieving their future through little acts of kindness. Like, the simple but layered juxtaposition of the joy of marching the chicks around on the third day to a little ocarina tune while the game vibrates every few minutes to signify that the moon is closer and closer to falling....

[floridagrowngirl]

Tornado weather

[tealspriinkles]

8th Doctor - Storm Warning 🌪️

Again I am so sorry if I get the tags wrong…..

My first Big Finish story!!!!

I gave myself a challenge at the start of the year to try and make an art piece for every doctor who audio drama I listened to, and I’m already very very behind……

But Storm Warning was first!! And the start of a descent into 8-related madness 😭

[violentdelightshavevioletends]

Head-canon of Heartbreak (and Onyx Storm spoilers): Xaden stops to pick a few wild spring violets he spotted outside of Dunne’s temple… there is nothing else for a wedding, but Violet walks down the aisle to him holding them… when she reaches him he places one in the hair he so loves. It’s not much… but he still takes the time, whatever little they have left.

[green-green-grass]

charley, the doctor, and a vortisaur walk into a bar

transparent version under the cut

[saltpepperbeard]

“Our Blackbeard is a legend, a lover, a fighter, a tactical genius, a poetic soul, and quite possibly insane.”