I was inspired by Samuel Becket’s ‘Waiting for Godot’ and wrote the following in response to our weird weather. Warning, depending on your imagination there is a picture of a rather rude cloud.
Are you coming?
To appreciate nature’s best.
What! Do you mean spring’s bursting life?
Aye, it’s our glorious spring weather.
I wouldn’t miss that for the world.
Yes, our world’s a splendid place.
Are you sure it’s today? It looks like rain.
Maybe it will snow and blow a slice of sleet.
That’s it, our fickle spring weather.
Where are we going?
We’ll walk to the top of the hill to those cherry trees.
See the pink blossom, the colour of spring.
Ah, the joy of spring.
The snow. The rain. The sleet. The wind.
Aye, it’s the impossible spring weather.
I bet we’ll get hailstones.
Life’s a gamble so it’s not certain.
But the weather’s consistent every day.
Yes, but it’s never the same.
There’s just no pleasing you.
What if it’s hailstones?
What if it’s rain?
We’ll perish in the onslaught.
No, we’ll shelter beneath those trees.
No the sycamores with larger leaves.
There are no leaves, just bursting buds.
Then we’ll huddle beneath the cherry woods.
Smell the blossoms with their perfume of spring.
They float on nature’s pleasant breeze.
Look at the view from the top of this hill.
As if we are looking over our wondrous world.
See the panoramic landscapes in every direction.
That’s nature’s beauty beneath our feet.
All around we see the lush green vegetation.
But look down into the town.
Can you see those people in the street?
They are tiny scuttling humans.
They look like ants. Like bugs.
Aye, blood sucking bugs.
Like parasitic creatures sucking life until they die.
Today, let’s not talk of humanity.
No, let’s look up.
Towards heaven and our endless sky.
Yes look, see the cirrostratus curtain rise.
Surely the spring show will now begin.
The clouds are gathering in groups to dance.
It is like a performing theatre that’s floating in.
Oh, what a display of nature’s flair.
First they come, the cirrus wisp.
Announcing the beginning at long last.
Surfing on a wind of soft humidity,
Transparent as flimsy feathers flying past,
Like dancing violins playing in high fidelity.
How the grass applauds by standing on its roots.
We join this audience, who can smell the rain.
Look at the approaching skirts of the nimbostratus.
It’s a wall awash with streaks of wailing water.
On the ground a sound like kettledrums with thumping beats.
Hailstones rattle, then comes streaks of slicing sleet.
A moment, a fluttering of lost snowflakes fills a void.
Followed by a sudden splash that washes across our faces.
Are you not excited and exhilarated by nature’s cleansing?
That brings its tickling ions in this soaking atmosphere.
Let’s laugh as the drizzle mocks us, what joy.
The Cumulonimbus in full majesty is now rumbling.
What will it bring? The snow, or hail, perhaps sleet and rain.
Look, did you see that lightning flash?
What a sparkling show.
Hailstones are again thumping and bouncing as they thrash.
The blossom is flayed from the cherry trees.
Now it’s turned to sleet and pouring rain.
And so we’re drenched, like two swimming rats.
Soaked to the skin and freezing cold.
Watching the show blowing past, as it moves on.
But look, the curtain of grey clouds has pulled aside.
There, the stratocumulus is forming fluffy lumps.
Like white cotton floating.
Mopping up the weather.
From through the gaps are the shining rays of sun.
Brightly radiating from beyond the blue.
Let’s hurry home and on the way,
We’ll dry in the warmth of the rainbow.
Spread like a leaping arc full of nature’s colours.
Shall we come again tomorrow?
And watch the dance of the imponderable spring weather?
Are you coming?
Aye, I wouldn’t miss that show for the world.