Yesterday was a slow quite steady rain. Today is a wicked wind from the East.
Dark gray skies like a blanket. Leaves flying sideways. The trees become more naked as I watch. The light seems to be brightest at ground level instead of the sky itself.
It feels close and open at the same time out there. The wind pushing on you feels close and oppressing. The openness of the lessening leaf cover give an open unprotectedness to the day. In a word ‘frightful.’
I couldn’t wait to get out my black velvet cloak and billow in such a wind. I wished for a flying Broom?… Carpet?… Wings? I wanted to fly and play in this dangerous buffeting wind. To roll and dive in, with, by the power of wind.
I shiver, but not from cold, it is rather warm out there at the moment. I shiver from the power and a bit of fear from the wind and its might. It pushes through the cloth of my clothing and I feel it on my skin all over, sensual. If I don’t take care it could knock me down, or more likely knock something into or down on me. I defy it by standing my ground.
The air is damp and heavy. I tire from the fight. I make the choice to go inside and watch from the window with a cup of tea. But I plan to go back outside and play again in a little while. It is too much fun for me to pass up the opportunity to play in a warm wicked wind that makes you feel upside down while standing in its path.