Storm Bara (or is it Barra?) has taken its toll on our Prom. I haven’t yet seen it in the flesh, so to speak, but he showed me a video on of the hoteliers along the front made in the midst of it. It looked terrifying. One of the shelters is smashed up and the concrete blocks along the edge of the Prom have been lifted up. I walked along South Marine and down to the Harbour and the road and pavements are scattered with stones and branches. Poor love. Poor Aber, it doesn’t half take a hammering. And from what I did see of North Prom it is deep in shale. And they will not shift it all till the storm season is done. There will be a lot of walking in the road. I hope no one was hurt. No doubt the BBC will send some poor bugger from Cardiff to report on it, he’d said the night before. Did they?
One of the flats in the building opposite has had its ground floor light on for the last few days. I sneaked a look in this morning as I returned home. It was a kitchen and it looked so cosy. Everything neat and just so. I saw what looked like a black cat sitting upright on its haunches, seemingly immobile. It was staring at me as I stared at it waiting to see if it would move. It did.
If you’re living in Aberdeen, said Petroc Trelawney at 6.50 am, you’ll have to wait another hour and a quarter for sunrise.
