Storm Tree

Windy day with frequent heavy showers, have a stinker of a cold (man flue!) so I was hard pressed to get out between the showers in an effort to cheer myself up, and get a blip. This old dead tree caught my eye, looking rather dramatic against the stormy sky.

I think we are in for a stormy night, as perfectly described by Robert Burns in Tam o' Shanter, and since we are not far away from the Bards birthday, I shall indulge you with a couple of verses. Tam is now heading home from the pub, as we all have to do at some stage.

Nae man can tether Time nor Tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride;
That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane,
The dreary hour, he mounts his beast in;
And sic a night he taks the road in,
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in.


The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last;
The rattling showers rose on the blast;
The speedy gleems the darkness swallow'd;
Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellow'd;
That night, a child might understand,
The deil had business on his hand.