Woofferton - Stormy Weather
by Phill Brooks

It was a winter's afternoon in the early eighties. In the entrance hall at Woofferton, about a half dozen staff were gazing through the large picture window which looked out over the orchard and the aerial workshop buildings. The sun was setting to the west, and the sky was an amazing sight. The upper atmosphere was a riot of colour, from the palest blue to near indigo, from buttercup yellow through orange to salmon pink to vivid scarlet in streaks, swirls and slashes. Lower down a huge storm cloud covered half the sky. Black and bulbous, shot through with a leprous yellow and in places bruised crimson. Backlit by the sun, its' outline glowed with an unearthly pale radiance. It was a sky that needed a Turner to do it justice. We stood watching in wonder as the huge cloud gradually drew nearer, slowly filling more of the sky. The A.E.i.C, Bill Gilmour, then appeared. Bill was a short, stocky man, and possessed the pugnacious confidence of many men of below average height. He worked his way through the crowd to the window, and drank in the scene for a few seconds. Then, with a cigarette jutting from the corner of his mouth like Popeye's pipe he spoke, breaking the almost reverential silence. His words, and the manner of his delivery, are engraved in my memory, ensuring that I will always remember them. He said simply,............................ “It's gonna f***ing p**s down in a minute!”. He wasn't wrong.

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Here is a picture taken by Phil Brooks of lesser weather conditions, but from the same window:-