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.