Daylight enables us to see what damage the storm caused. The French teacher has had an oak tree fall on her house. As we pass on our morning walk the local fire brigade are hard at work throwing a plastic sheet over what's left of her roof. Due to blocked roads and wind damage the schools which were due to open on Tuesday won't start until Thursday. Beyond the crossroads the school secretary's new Renault has been squashed by a wayward acacia. Down by the river the oaks, heavy with acorns , seem to have suffered most. Heartbreaking to see so many of these two hundred year old giants felled.
Our farm lad was fortunate to escape from his run in with a tree unscathed. Two others, from neighbouring villages, weren't so lucky
A quick check of the garden. The lawn strewn with branches, a few broken umbrellas, a smashed wooden chair. Inside, the water seeping through the ceiling has slowed to a gentle trickle. The builder promises to come and repair the roof tiles ' as soon as I can '. When pressed he adds '' probably this week but I can't guarantee it ". 50,000 folks to the west remain without power. We count our blessings.
By eight the first of the council clean up teams are hard at work cutting up branches that have fallen onto the little lane. Bob monitors their progress from his stump seat.
Sophie sits amidst the detritus of the previous nights storm exuding happiness. Mud, an irritated brother and a demonic tweeting bird. What more could a girl ask for ?