Flood

After yesterday's apocalyptic warnings about the storm hitting southern England, we woke up to a day without a breath of wind. Spent a few hours in the shed going though old diaries for Fiona's book, but got so cold that I had to step out around 2.30pm to get the circulation going again. The water was nearly over the stepping stones across the Waskerley Beck but managed not to get wet feet. I was reminded of the time when I was running in sub-zero temperatures very early one winter's morning when it was still dark, and I put my foot on the first stepping stone only to find it lethally sheathed in black ice.