The wrath of Aeolus

Posted by Ken Campbell January 25, 2012 0 Comment 1177 views

I was awakened by the wind this morning. Actually, I woke up at a few points during the night to the sound of the gales whipping through the trees on the hillside above the house and the waves crashing on the beach. There are some who profess to like the wind; I am not one of them.
Wind, especially this cold, gusty stuff that pummels me to sleep on a winter’s night, is a malevolent force. To my way of thinking, anyway. Knocking down trees and power lines, pushing the high tide even higher, tearing pieces off of docks and strewing dead leaves and litter all around. The high winds and surf tore into the jetty out at La Push yesterday, with sea water overtopping the rock wall and damaging some waterfront buildings, swirling tons of new sand into the dredged channel.
When I say that I am not particularly fond of wind, I am not talking about the soft summer breezes of a Jimmy Buffett song. The tickling puffs of moving air that carry a scent of jasmine or that toss the hair from a pretty girl’s face. This winter wind is a titanic force, unseen, but all the more powerful because of it. It has the ability to upset the apple cart of my daily life with its falling limbs across the roadway and drift logs under the house, tearing out the plumbing in seconds flat.
But, as it turns out, there is not much I can do about it.

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