weather report

London is hot and oppressive. Humidity levels soaring and a pressure building behind my forehead as I keep pushing on.

This evening was sticky, heavy and sad. Unrelenting. The solitude of a 9th floor dwelling. Unusually, no voices on the street, just a darkening view of the city.

Unexpected bursts of light strike over the London skyline lit on an indigo sky from my window: Quick flashes of lightening, and within minutes the sky is the greyest of grey, thunder rumbling miles away, rolling through tunnels of skyscrapers, through the streets. Sharp lights getting more and more frequent on the back of that cover of pent-up magnetic power we have suffered these past days. The sky rips into milliseconds of white madness.



But where is the rain? Why do I still see all the iconic buildings so clearly, lit in their evening gowns? Where's the promised relief? I wait, not impatiently.

I fell the wind picking up, but no heavy clouds any where near. It would seem there's going to be no crescendo in North London tonight; the easterners are taking the brunt and the animation.

Lights flare, ever further east. The City of London is back to its old usual self; well known buildings lit in the now post-dusk sky, winking incessantly at me with a red eye.