Chicago
Rian is afraid of wind.
Not the gentle breezes that ruffle Fall leaves, but the hurricane bluffs that bring trees across asphalt and shake buildings.
Rian did not know Wind until Rian lived for a handful of years in Virginia. Hurricane edges were regular, there. I remember huddled in the shop basement with fellow employees and grumpy customers, absently counting book spines and listening to the windows rattle above.
Wind is more frightening, to Rian, than the quaking of the Earth. Wind is sneaky. Earthquakes are forthright and businesslike. Wind hisses about, promising violence, sometimes fufilling, and sometimes not.
Rian prefers to face most fears head on. MOST fears.
During the fading edge of a hurricane, Rian stocked out onto Virginia grass to swear at a torn gutter. The wind and rain hurt my flesh. And the gusts ripped the gutter from roof and tossed it at Rian's feet.
I do not miss the Wind.
Not the gentle breezes that ruffle Fall leaves, but the hurricane bluffs that bring trees across asphalt and shake buildings.
Rian did not know Wind until Rian lived for a handful of years in Virginia. Hurricane edges were regular, there. I remember huddled in the shop basement with fellow employees and grumpy customers, absently counting book spines and listening to the windows rattle above.
Wind is more frightening, to Rian, than the quaking of the Earth. Wind is sneaky. Earthquakes are forthright and businesslike. Wind hisses about, promising violence, sometimes fufilling, and sometimes not.
Rian prefers to face most fears head on. MOST fears.
During the fading edge of a hurricane, Rian stocked out onto Virginia grass to swear at a torn gutter. The wind and rain hurt my flesh. And the gusts ripped the gutter from roof and tossed it at Rian's feet.
I do not miss the Wind.
posted by La Tulipe | 8:23 AM
5 Comments:
Sometimes I love the wind. I've never been anywhere near a hurricane, but I've been around gales strong enough to knock trees down and so on. It is just so fierce, and so wild, and sweeps away all the cobwebs of boring daily consumer-drivenness to take you back to the cavemen huddling in a cave listening to it wuther around the cliff-face.
Well, kinda.
But sometimes, yes, it scares me. Mostly when there are large trees nearby, or loose tiles on the roof, or things that I own like my car are out in it. Most notably of all when we were caravanning in the north of Scotland...a small, light caravan perched on top of an almost-cliff, rocking from side to side, was petrifying. We had to keep going and sitting in the solid toilet block to calm down.
But no...it's like any storm anything. Wind, rain, lightning...the violence of it makes me feel more alive. Even if alive and scared.
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Second try:
I love wind and storms, though they do require healthy respect.
They are elemental, forceful, huge. Some part of me flies wild in the sky with it, tethered only lightly inside inside my earthbound chest.
The heart beats faster.
I rather enjoy a good storm. There's something so wonderfully snug about huddling in your blankets while thunder booms overhead.
Or, you could always go and play in the storm... (Which I have done a few times... Mostly when slightly tipsy...)
Mmm, I adore the wind as well. Although I, too, have experienced the final throes of hurricanes blasting their way up the east coast. Frightening, but in an awe-inspiring way.
We humans may think we have all the answers, yet Nature has the ability to put us right back in our place with a single act.
Awesome, in the truest sense of the word.
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