The skies over Tula have turned restless, as if the heavens themselves are grinding their teeth. A western gale, howling at speeds of 12 to 17 meters per second, is set to thrash the region tonight and into the early hours of Monday. This isn’t just wind—it’s nature’s tantrum, bending trees like straws and turning loose objects into projectiles.
Authorities urge residents to treat the wind like a drunken brawler—keep your distance. Parking beneath trees? A fool’s gamble. Lingering near flimsy structures? An invitation to disaster. Even pedestrians should tread lightly, especially on bridges, where the wind plays its cruelest tricks, shoving without warning.
Should the gale leave you in a pinch, dial 01 from a landline or 112 from mobile. The emergency services stand ready, though one hopes their aid won’t be needed in a city bracing against the elements.
Beyond the wind, life in Tula hums with its usual contradictions—May Day memes circulate alongside grim headlines, while the region’s sturgeon population mysteriously grows by 946 fish. But tonight, all eyes are on the storm, a reminder that nature, unlike politics, cannot be negotiated with.
