I glanced out the window as I passed, and was startled to see a sock blow by. Then a second sock, that naturally was not a match for the first. I stopped to watch, and marveled as the sock storm unravelled before me. Clearly now was not the best time to strike out on a journey.
This was not the first time I had encountered an unusual storm here. I remembered seeing a storm of licorice vines. That had really painted the sky red.
I turned away from the window and returned to my table by the hearth. A large schooner of ale was waiting, and I eagerly anticipated working my way through it. As befits the time and place, the beer’s ample head was at the bottom of the mug.