Winds of Change

The older I get, the more the weather seems to affect me. Yesterday morning I woke to heavy wind. It was a strong, warm, moist wind with soft texture. It tossed the limbs of the Laurel Oak and tumbled my new grapefruit right over pot an all. I felt invigorated. I wanted to open all the windows and let the wind blow away the musty, the stale, the mundane; to let the house be energized,refreshed, revitalized.



My mother keeps all windows closed, always. She says too much dust blows in otherwise. She has a point. The street is dirt and the two or three cars that pass down it each day do kick up dust if there has been no recent rain. The slider to the covered lanai stays open unless the weather requires either a/c or heat. It is at the back of the house and faces away from the street, so dust is less of a problem.



Nevertheless, I keep my bedroom windows open. My bedroom door stays closed so that the topsy turvy flow does not disturb the staidness of the rest of the house. True, I do have to dust my room about twice as much, but it's absolutely worth it to have the freshness pouring in.



In yesterday's wonderful wind I really, really, wanted to let the whole house in on the pleasure. But, it was not to be. I settled for taking myself out to the lanai and letting the wind blow the musty, the stale, the mundane, out of my own mind; clearing some space for fresh thought, clean attitude, heightened awareness.



The wind was the meeting of warm, moist, air flowing up from the Carribean with lots of clouds and a cold, dry, air blowing in from the Northwest bringing crisp, clear skies. They were having a little roughhouse play. The southern wind was winning for most of the morning. My sister, Debra, came over and feeling the energizing effect as I was, we took off for the beach, some lunch, and some exploring. By the time we got there (about 15 minutes), we had driven out from under the cloud cover into a sparkling afternoon, still warm. By evening the North had won the battle and the skies were clear and temps dropping fast.



About 100 miles from here, just outside Tampa, the roughhouse turned nasty, and the tussle turned into a tornado, leaving a good bit of destruction in its wake.



Yes, as I get older, the weather affects me more. I respond more to the psychological and/or spiritual stirrings of what's happening outside. And what's happening outside seems to be completely driven by weather.