Wildcat Wind

Not a hurricane, not a typhoon, this storm - a tree feller still, a pouncing wave maker.
Through it drives my little car, my mouse-white car, half hid in leaf, scuffing wheel trim on twigs; around the clumped earth on fresh underside of oak root, bumping down a wind tunnel of branches. Out and back the little car goes, lost in rain and road spray.
I too am lost: busy, distracted. Long hours, long lists.
Between frost and hot, lately, the weather has wandered. Tomato plants lost to the usual dose of late blight, the cucumber vine on last days, flower rot blooming. Chillies are popping out, speedy and spicy and filling the dehydrator rack: pods of winter warmth awaiting.
Earlier I had lain in the hammock, duvet wrapped, listening to bird song, to leaves quiver.
They say that winter will come hard, four months without reprieve.
So in the car I sit, parked away from stray roof slates, eyes closed, and the wildcat wind is not cold and I remember to love the heft of it.
Here again I find myself. A moment: then, check the list: the next thing.


Our weather has wandered a bit here, too. And everywhere else, for that matter. Somehow, I fear it's only going to get worse. Nature's powers are awe-inspiring, and I reckon the best we can do is to appreciate it.

That's a lot of water. A wet fall, I take it? Has been for us, too.
Lisa Southard said…
I came home with a pocketful of sweet chestnuts, definitely appreciated that :-)
Lisa Southard said…
So far - apart from this - drier than usual, but the season isn't over yet :-)

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