Outside

Not the dull dark greyness of brooding winter chill, but a blue toned sepia filter complete with lightening, swaying trees, lashing thick drops of water and a typhonic swirl of gale so strong it rattles my tightly knit house and threatens to push open locked doors.
Generously supplied with screeching air acoustics and ear splitting cloud gurgling bass, the world as seen from a window is apocalyptic chic. Skies overhead matted in a cottony jumble of wispy shreds, rumbling sometimes with the uncompromising sounds of overhead jet, that serves only to heighten the imperceptibly eerie arcane.