Tuesday, February 15, 2011


How many different ways can you recognize the wind? Of course you can feel it.  You can hear it.  Objects run from it, like frightened children.  But you really can't see it. 

Its roar through the bare branches of the hardwood forest yesterday was deafening at times.  Even inside the house we couldn't mistake that iconic "freight train" sound, tunneling under buildings, around implements, and against the side of the house. In terms of strength, it didn't start to compare to Yasi or Katrina.  We're talking in the 40 mph vicinity with occasional gusts to 50 mph or so.  But it was enough.  More than enough. 

Cardboard boxes which I thought I'd safely tucked away, took to the air.  Large dead limbs in the maples, ash and oak trees fell to the ground and clunked down on our porch roof.  Lawnchairs stored "securely" came adrift.  And tiny yard-tornadoes lifted whirling circles of leaves and carried them in small pirouettes across the meadow.

And it wasn't even March yet!

Eventually, the power went off, as would be expected.  And there were dire warnings out of the Weather Forecast offices all around us, admonishing against--(can you imagine  anyone would be so dumb?)  any yard burning...! 

But all is quiet today.  It's supposed to be 60+ degrees.  The sun is shining.  And despite yesterday's drama, the landscape is once again benign and benevolent. 


  1. Elora -- Since I was a child I have had a deep spiritual feeling about wind. Your type of wind is not the type I like to have a run-ins with. I hope no serious damage occurred. Glad to hear all is calm today. -- barbara

  2. We had a windy morning but not too fierce. I love it when I can hear the sound of the wind in the pines on the ridge to the south.

  3. Look at that picture Elora! Just gorgeous!!!!

  4. The wind yesterday made me think of the March lion, too. It was fierce! I have also "tracked" wind by listening to when and where it rattles the branches and leaves in the forest. often, wind is a narrow ribbon of bluster rather than a wide, all-encompassing front. i never knew that until I moved to the woods and could see how some trees moved and rattled, while their neighbors stood still.

  5. This post was waaaaaaay long ago! I lost track of it amidst other incoming comments, but I did want to reply

    Barbara, you must have been a Native American in a previous life. Wind does speak to us, doesn't it?!

    Vicki, nothing makes me happier than a gentle shirring of wind through our big spruce tree in the yard, here. I grew up against a huge stand of Douglas Firs beside my bedroom window. The sound says "home."

    Thanks, Elora! It was fun selecting something with which to picture "wind!" So glad you liked it!

    You have a front row seat for wind, don't you, Carolyn! How interesting re: "tracking" wind. And how close to all of nature you become when you reside among all it's elements!

    Thanks so much for all comments!