The view from the window

Low grey rainy clouds cloaking the distant hills
A bright sun, lighting up the green fields
casting rays of light and happiness on soggy bogs
White dots of sheep, stood firm against the blustering, windy wind as it blows the clouds racing and scurrying across the sky.
As quick as the rain and hailstones are bashing and knocking on the window, they are gone.
Gone to knock somewhere else.