Ja, Es ist doch windig.

I brought this up in our class discussion today, but it's such a potent part of the day that I feel compelled to post it on my blog, as well. The wind has been hurling through my region today like a freight train, and it's causing about equal destruction.

On Christmas Eve, after my dad's sudden heart attack and our subsequent phone calls to 911, the coroner, and the funeral director, my family went to bed and was surrounded by the same thundering wind that we've been getting today. That night, it ripped apart a trash bag at the end of our driveway and scattered all sorts of junk all over our neighborhood, which I spent Christmas morning walking up and down the hills to gather anew.

Today, the wind is ripping shingles off the roof of our garage, ripping open birdfeeders, sending bird nests from the trees reeling onto our deck, and making my indoor cat even crazier than she already is. (Every time a leaf blows past the window, she hurls herself at the window as though she can catch it. Poor thing; it's a wonder her nose isn't permanently flattened.)

I love wind, as a rule. I'm fascinated by a force made visible only by what it's affecting, made audible only by loose ends. But today, I wish it would be a little softer to me and my family. Dear wind, please try to at least leave half the shingles on our roof. And make sure to spin the windmills on your way down the valley. Thanks.