It had been on promise all day. The weather had been heavy and close and walking the city it was like being under a blanket with the odd refreshing breeze
And sure enough after a few light showers we got a down pour around five. It came from nowhere was very violent for about ten minutes and then had gone as fast as it had come, leaving the pavements running with water and the shoppers warily coming out of buildings to continue their Saturday afternoon.
All of which was just a prelude to what was coming. Away in the mountains the lightning forked across the sky and there was a low rumble which meant that the storm was faraway to the north. And then it arrived with a ferocity you don’t see at home. For a full fifteen minutes it bounced off the roofs and pavements and swept across the road, and then it had gone.
In the morning as I look out from our balcony it is as if the storm had never happened. The flats opposite sock up the early morning sun and there is the promise of much more. These flats and ours are social housing, built in the 1970s. They have three bedrooms, two bathrooms and three balconies. All for a modest rent.
They are built of brick with pitched roofs and are a direct contrast to those deck and crescents properties we put up at the same time.
Picture; from the collection of Andrew Simpson
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