The wind was strong. We moved the vase and ornaments from the window ledge in case the blind, blown inwards by a gust, knocked them to the floor. This has happened in the past, waking us with a sudden noise. We shut the bedroom door to minimise the through draught, only for it to rattle persistently against the catch.
Our last house was surrounded by trees and the wind shushed through the leaves, the sound fierce but somehow soothing. Now the wind blows along the length of the canal, an urban wind with little to soften its passage. It makes the canal look like a flowing river but of course it’s just ripples, forming on the surface of still water.
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