A little vent

It was a very hot evening. Very close. Just before I went to bed the wind started gusting outside, quickly getting stronger. Crash! Bang!
I looked out of the window and I could see that my wheelie bin had blown over. I put my shoes on and trekked downstairs to upright the wrong.
The wind was very hot but we don’t suffer from fiercely hot winds like they do in some other parts of France.
I tucked my bin into a sheltered corner of the parking area and looked along the main road. Bin bags and wheelie bins were lying stricken on the pavement and in the road.
N the montelimar nougat maker arrived to spend the night at Bee-boys and he obviously thought that I was mad. Still it all adds up to my mad, bad and dangerous image that one needs to survive here in the Grand Sud.
I watched with interest as a sheet of roofing material from the garage across the road flapped wildly, held by a single fixing. Then, clunk! It flew off the roof. Not however in the direction of the cars parked adjacent, but towards their large wheelie bin, which ended up lying on its back too.
I could not see any unsecured objects on my property and returned upstairs to bed. Nobody else could be bothered to sort out their mess.
In the morning I took these photos of some of the other casualties. Next doors post box and wheelie bin and the other neighbour’s plum tree.