Wind Sick

Hey Kids,

The week drew to a close. The boat was cleaned, the appliances switched off, and the doors locked. It was sad to say good bye to our home and friend born of our adventures. It had served us well, ran beautifully, and had kept us safe.

The bow bobbing in the slip seemed to wave to us good bye.

And then the next adventure began.

High winds accompanied an incoming storm. One that nearly tore the kayaks from our rooftop and tilted the car so far off of its suspension with its gusts, our loss of traction alarm sounded. We had to turn the truck into the wind and wait out the high winds until the front passed.

I have never been so sick of wind as I am right now.


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Brought and Taken in the Wind

Hey Kids,

The wind blows from the south tonight.

This usually means a storm approaches but the forecast says otherwise. Instead this wind brings with it warm temperatures for the weekend, sunny skies, and blue skies.

The windows have all been open and the pulses of wind that cause the drapes to breathe in and out like the sides of a dragon in a deep sleep, bring with them the dust from parts unknown.

What carries on the wind? Perhaps the dust of a gravel pit, or the dried dirt of a construction site. Or perhaps the mountain that once stood great after being thrust into the sky from an ancient force from the core the earth, now weathered and softened by the winters of millennia. Within this dust carries the shores of an ancient ocean, of the remains of its inhabitants. A volcano’s blast might also be mixed with the dirt caught on the grid of the screen door.691e80fd1f9f0d637cc02177b6831dba

Each gust of wind carries with it, the geologic memories of the earth.

The wind carries with it this night, other memories; memories of times not so ancient. Memories of smiles and laughter, of little hands, and kisses good night.

The mountain is not the only thing tonight being ground by the sands of time blowing on the wind.


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The Mountain does Yield

Hey Kids,

If you hold a rock in your hand and blow against it, nothing happens.

Or so it seems.

Something does happen, dust is vacated.img_20161014_145743244_hdr

More dust is generated by the surface of the rock being exposed to yet more gusts.

Another pulse of breath, and that dust is gone.

From attempt to attempt, the naked eye sees nothing.

Yet from attempt to attempt, the rock yields to the movement of air.

Effort does not go without effect. Work does not go without results.

Maybe not seen on a daily basis, the long term results cannot be denied.


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