The day the whale came

A fortress sky loomed above, imprisoning us in its ghostly weather. Thick grey walls of cloud cast a pale deathly light across the city. The inmates shuffled about like zombies - turning coat collars up against the chill and the fine icy drizzle which soaked you to your soul as it was swept up on a cruel wind hiding around corners, lashing out at the un-expecting and unprepared. Even the mightiest of umbrellas could not defeat it.

It had been like this for weeks - the sun's pathetic daily assault on the prison walls was over before it began. Its cheery face a distant memory. This wasn't bad weather - not a frightening storm of lighting - no blazing heat cooked us or deep cold froze us. No gale battered, no torrential rain, no snow blocked our way. Not weather you could stand up to, that if it did beat you at least it was in a fair fight.

No - this was evil weather. It didn't punch or kick. It didn't shout. It whispered - slowly nibbling away at your soul - slowly grinding down your will to live.

But then just as liberating spring seemed an eternity away something miraculous happened.

A whale came. And with her - she brought the nourishing sun breaking down the walls of cloud. She spouted water high, sparkling into the golden light that shone across the town. For the first time in weeks there were smiles on the streets of London. "Have you heard about the whale?" "There is a fucking whale in the river!" "A whale has come, a whale has come." "The whale is amongst us." people cheered in the bright winter sun.

"We must save the whale" people said but was it really ourselves we wanted to save?

But nature can cruelly take away as easily as it generously gives. The whale died - but she left the sun in our hearts so maybe it wasn’t all in vain.