Very timely, as we’re under a “fire watch wind advisory” tomorrow. Your Chesapeake adventure(s) with storm(s) is terrifying just reading about—glad you all made it through safely!
My wind story is from Fall, 1983. Mike & Lauren had come out to Seattle for Kyle’s baptism the weekend after Thanksgiving. We had a terrific storm on Thanksgiving that knocked out the power. I can still see Lauren standing at our dining room glass door watching the trees in the woods behind us as they bent and twisted—she was very worried that one (or more!) might fall on the house. Fortunately, none did, the power came back on the next day, and we had Thanksgiving one day late.
Julie,Julie, Julie! You evoked such fond memories of sailing on the Chesapeake that I now must go back and reread the rest of your post that I somehow skimmed over.
I only have one small quibble: I was taught that gentlemen never tack into the wind. Sure, the practice might cause occasional navigation challenges, but a gentleman always has enough leisure to do things properly.
If you promise not to tell, I loved a summer squall while heading into the waves when the bow digs deep, quickly rises, and pitches a bathtub of water back on the helmsman, always me.
It sure is a good way to rinse off a few layers of cubicle life. Each bathtub full of bow spray = 4 layers of cubicle life pressure washed off. And a good howl is the only proper reaction.
I love your suggestion to walk and sit in the same place three days in a row, I'm going to do that. I have a close friend who has walked up a local mountain every Wednesday of the year and plans to keep it going for all of 2024. She pauses in the exact same place and takes it in as well as takes a picture. Sometimes it's so overcast she has zero visibility and takes the image anyway. A lovely project of presence.
Of immersion in the wind: Today I watched teens skate circles around a roller rink. That made a kind of wind, though I’ll need to find another place to sit three different days. :-)
Very timely, as we’re under a “fire watch wind advisory” tomorrow. Your Chesapeake adventure(s) with storm(s) is terrifying just reading about—glad you all made it through safely!
My wind story is from Fall, 1983. Mike & Lauren had come out to Seattle for Kyle’s baptism the weekend after Thanksgiving. We had a terrific storm on Thanksgiving that knocked out the power. I can still see Lauren standing at our dining room glass door watching the trees in the woods behind us as they bent and twisted—she was very worried that one (or more!) might fall on the house. Fortunately, none did, the power came back on the next day, and we had Thanksgiving one day late.
Which, BTW, is messed up. I don't recall ever having fire watches when we were kids. And didn't it just rain a whole lot recently?
I was always terrified of the trees at the top of the hill in our backyard for the same reason!
Julie,Julie, Julie! You evoked such fond memories of sailing on the Chesapeake that I now must go back and reread the rest of your post that I somehow skimmed over.
I only have one small quibble: I was taught that gentlemen never tack into the wind. Sure, the practice might cause occasional navigation challenges, but a gentleman always has enough leisure to do things properly.
Ah but Nature, especially in the throes of her ecstatic summer-storm fury is NO gentleman. 🥵🤯
If you promise not to tell, I loved a summer squall while heading into the waves when the bow digs deep, quickly rises, and pitches a bathtub of water back on the helmsman, always me.
You are a sick pup. Or is that me, for my abject terror. I will admit, never have I felt so alive. I’ve been known to howl with it.
It sure is a good way to rinse off a few layers of cubicle life. Each bathtub full of bow spray = 4 layers of cubicle life pressure washed off. And a good howl is the only proper reaction.
A little terror goes a long way, to be sure.
I love your suggestion to walk and sit in the same place three days in a row, I'm going to do that. I have a close friend who has walked up a local mountain every Wednesday of the year and plans to keep it going for all of 2024. She pauses in the exact same place and takes it in as well as takes a picture. Sometimes it's so overcast she has zero visibility and takes the image anyway. A lovely project of presence.
That’s so cool! I know someone who sat with the same tree every day for a month. That’s always appealed to me. Now to actually go and do it. 😵💫
In very old times, they’d all have been hitched to a waterwheel or plow. 😅
😂
Of the storm: Yikes!
Of immersion in the wind: Today I watched teens skate circles around a roller rink. That made a kind of wind, though I’ll need to find another place to sit three different days. :-)
Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could harness that roller skate wind energy? 😁🛼
Go directly to the source: harness the kids with some kind of aura collector to capture all the energy they trail behind them.
Windblown,
Head down,
I traverse the shore.
On a still, summer day
Heat would bear down
And I’d wade in up to my knees
But this is spring.
Seaspray leaps
Dancing in the gusts
Sandpipers, curlews and sanderlings
Hushed
Nestle behind miniature berms.
Hat gripped in my fist
I push curls from my face
Quicken my pace
Anticipate
An extra-hot latte.
Today’s walk is going to be short.
Oh, my, that's gorgeous! Thank you for sharing it!
Thank you for prompting its writing!
“Are we not projecting our inner…”
I wrestle with this one often. My answer is yes, but how much is the responsibility? Is it mere participation?
What a powerful and scary experience with the wind, Julie!
I think it’s all true — and how it’s meant to be. Thanks for reading, Priya.