Windy Days
The south wind blew yesterday. Shook the trees. Chased leaves across the yard. Ran it’s fingers through my hair. It’s still at it this morning. A mass of air rushing across the land in a big hurry. A front is on the way. Low pressure is coming, which means rain. We hope. Rain. Lord. We need it. The ground is dry. Creeks are dry. Rivers are dry. We’re all dry. Where’s a hurricane when you need it?
Speaking of water, my old water trough I use as a fountain has a leak. I tried sealing it yesterday with a little spray. It still looked good this morning. I’ll check it again throughout the day. I hope it stays. It’s my preferred way of watering the cats. Who do need to drink occasionally. And some of the critters come too. I’ve never seen any, but I guess I could put up a camera and see who shows up. That might actually be fun.
Saw a nice sunset yesterday. By accident. I just walked outside and there it was. Clouds hanging in the sky lit nicely by the sun as it slipped behind the horizon. And somewhere, on the flip side, someone was getting a sunrise. That’s pretty nice. I hope they, too, had good clouds because you need those clouds and it’s odd to think that clouds are associated with sadness and it’s easy to see why when they’re nothing but gray. But give them even a tiny break and let that setting sunshine through, and it’s party time and you think hurrah for clouds, and you go to bed feeling good.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale