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Sunday 7 September 2008

Low Life

Gathering Storm

I rested my chin on my hand and watched the passing scenery all the way to London. For most of the journey the sky was filled with towering black clouds and from time to time rain smashed against the window. The train seemed to be racing just ahead of a deep, fast-moving depression travelling west to east. Passengers with a raincoat or umbrella stowed on the luggage rack were probably quietly congratulating themselves for their forward thinking.

At Paddington station I stepped down from the train and went and stood on smokers’ corner and smoked a fag in violently gusting wind and bright sunshine. I was headed for a rooftop party. Squinting up between the buildings, I tried to work out whether or not it was going to rain. Black clouds streamed across the London sky like outriders of a marauding army.

I went by underground train from Paddington to Piccadilly Circus. As I trod the steps up to ground level, I saw that the sky was now almost entirely black. Great gusts of wind were knocking young and old off balance. Strange it was, but thrilling, too, to be experiencing wild, open-country weather like this in the heart of the capital. As I walked down Haymarket I fancied that somehow I’d accidentally acquired shamanic powers and had brought the gathering storm to town with me.

More articles from: Jeremy Clarke | this section

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