Oh How the Wind Doth Blow!
Countee Cullen wrote in a poem many years ago:
"poor little pigs, they see the wind"
I was never sure what he meant.
We have "seen" the wind the past few days, well not the wind itself, but what it was up to. Tearing off loose shingles, sending
light weight porch chairs flying across the lawn, removing dead branches from the trees- even some of the trees themselves, and
ringing wild clanging melodies from the wind chimes on the porch. Happily I noted this morning when the air was once again calm, that the large dead tree on the hillside where the
Turkey Vultures gather has withstood the onslaught.
I like wind, unless it becomes destructive. There is something
primitive, an inner stirring the power of wind can create. It almost always heralds a change in weather, as it has this week.
We went from very hot and humid followed by heavy down pouring rain to the cool, dry air, blue sky and sun. In came the winds to dry up the large puddles, the swampy lawns, and return the swollen creeks and rivers to the confines of their banks.
The weather forecasters have been doing a pretty good job of calling the next day's outlook despite the vastly changing weather patterns the earth is now experiencing. Of course they
have a good deal of fancy equipment to aid them. Still interpretation of what those machines are showing takes expertise. It must be great fun, as well as challenging, to be a
weatherman (or woman) now.
I heard one man on the radio one evening say, after a frustrating time of trying to give accurate forecasts,
" Tomorrow there is a 90 % chance of weather." Couldn't go wrong with that one!
Some animals are very good at forecasting weather changes.
Susie, my cat, always seems to feel the approach of a windstorm,
or even just a sharp change in barometric pressure. Before any
change is evident, Susie goes "on a wheeze." (My terminology for her crazy behavior.) Fat, lazy, smiling, middle-aged cat,
who spends her days basking in sunbeams on the window sill.
A puss who never has a chance to dart after a blowing leaf or
climb a swaying tree, she suddenly leaps from her perch to begin a wild dash though-out the apartment. Over the backs of chairs, in beneath the bed and out the other side she flies. I can hardly believe this is my cat who is speeding past, her pouch of a belly swinging. She has never been wrong, for within hours of this erratic behavior, there will be wind.
The majority of cats don't seem to behave this way, though I have heard several people describe some similar antics in their cats.
Outdoor cats don't seem to act this way. I have had numerous barn cats and never witnessed anything like this. Ginger, the feral cat, sometimes seems to me to lack good sense, for a storm will come up with plenty of warning, and yet she returns to the porch soaking wet. Doesn't she sense it coming? Maybe she just doesn't care if she gets wet.
Hannah, my dog, joins the many thousands of thunder-phobic dogs, in her abject terror of an approaching thunder storm. She
begins panting and pacing and trying to find ridiculous places (like behind the toilet) to hide, long before there appears even one black cloud in the sky. I always take her word for it and
"batten the hatches", securing loose items on the porch and giving Hannah a dose of Rescue Remedy.
Despite inside-out umbrellas, paper plates flying from the picnic table, a tangle of leaves, twigs, and branches cluttering the yard, I like wind.
My spirit bird soars on the power of it, taking my soul with him.
The world is swept clean.
And Susie can resume her nap between the Geranium pots on the window sill once it has passed.
"poor little pigs, they see the wind"
I was never sure what he meant.
We have "seen" the wind the past few days, well not the wind itself, but what it was up to. Tearing off loose shingles, sending
light weight porch chairs flying across the lawn, removing dead branches from the trees- even some of the trees themselves, and
ringing wild clanging melodies from the wind chimes on the porch. Happily I noted this morning when the air was once again calm, that the large dead tree on the hillside where the
Turkey Vultures gather has withstood the onslaught.
I like wind, unless it becomes destructive. There is something
primitive, an inner stirring the power of wind can create. It almost always heralds a change in weather, as it has this week.
We went from very hot and humid followed by heavy down pouring rain to the cool, dry air, blue sky and sun. In came the winds to dry up the large puddles, the swampy lawns, and return the swollen creeks and rivers to the confines of their banks.
The weather forecasters have been doing a pretty good job of calling the next day's outlook despite the vastly changing weather patterns the earth is now experiencing. Of course they
have a good deal of fancy equipment to aid them. Still interpretation of what those machines are showing takes expertise. It must be great fun, as well as challenging, to be a
weatherman (or woman) now.
I heard one man on the radio one evening say, after a frustrating time of trying to give accurate forecasts,
" Tomorrow there is a 90 % chance of weather." Couldn't go wrong with that one!
Some animals are very good at forecasting weather changes.
Susie, my cat, always seems to feel the approach of a windstorm,
or even just a sharp change in barometric pressure. Before any
change is evident, Susie goes "on a wheeze." (My terminology for her crazy behavior.) Fat, lazy, smiling, middle-aged cat,
who spends her days basking in sunbeams on the window sill.
A puss who never has a chance to dart after a blowing leaf or
climb a swaying tree, she suddenly leaps from her perch to begin a wild dash though-out the apartment. Over the backs of chairs, in beneath the bed and out the other side she flies. I can hardly believe this is my cat who is speeding past, her pouch of a belly swinging. She has never been wrong, for within hours of this erratic behavior, there will be wind.
The majority of cats don't seem to behave this way, though I have heard several people describe some similar antics in their cats.
Outdoor cats don't seem to act this way. I have had numerous barn cats and never witnessed anything like this. Ginger, the feral cat, sometimes seems to me to lack good sense, for a storm will come up with plenty of warning, and yet she returns to the porch soaking wet. Doesn't she sense it coming? Maybe she just doesn't care if she gets wet.
Hannah, my dog, joins the many thousands of thunder-phobic dogs, in her abject terror of an approaching thunder storm. She
begins panting and pacing and trying to find ridiculous places (like behind the toilet) to hide, long before there appears even one black cloud in the sky. I always take her word for it and
"batten the hatches", securing loose items on the porch and giving Hannah a dose of Rescue Remedy.
Despite inside-out umbrellas, paper plates flying from the picnic table, a tangle of leaves, twigs, and branches cluttering the yard, I like wind.
My spirit bird soars on the power of it, taking my soul with him.
The world is swept clean.
And Susie can resume her nap between the Geranium pots on the window sill once it has passed.
Thanks, Cynthia, this is beautifully written. I lost two kitties last year and they were both terrified of thunder storms but one of them had a behavior that was particularly interesting. When the thunder would begin he always dashed for the hallway in the very center of the house furthest from the windows and surrounded closely by walls. I always felt he was following the advise of experts about where to be in the house in the event of a tornado. He would eventually find his way to one of the beds and get under that but his first reaction was to hunker down in the hallway. I miss him so much.
ReplyDeleteA very wise kitty indeed, Wendy. He left you with some wonderful memories too.
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