The weather has cooled down considerably, but for the last two or three days the wind has been blowing hard, even howling through the house. Today I notice weʼre under a wind warning (of which the little weather widget on Google had no explanation of detail, just the warning), which is not surprising as it seems sometimes that the wind pouring indoors could be powerful enough to upset things near windows, like perhaps a new TV. It hasnʼt done so, but other things have gone flying, although not here in the office. Yet.
Janet observed as she was pulling way from the house this morning that it looked like fall. I think she was referring to all the downed leaves from the trees, both front and back. Although we picked up on Monday, there is now much more work ahead. And I donʼt know how long the big winds keep blowing. The temperatures donʼt rise much above 70° for several days to come — most of this week. So her observation seems solid for now, even if official summer lasts through the 22nd. The blustery day seems fully fall, although the leaves are green (mostly, more than 97%), and the chill is certain and enduring today (although the temperature has steadily crept up since 8:00 a.m., unfortunately still degrees away from its forecast peak).
Living on a hill (not quite at the top) as we do, itʼs generally pretty breezy around here. We donʼt hang many things outdoors because they just get banged about and blown away, so a few days of gales shouldnʼt arouse comment or observation from us. However, after the August doldrums and dog days (meaning heat, humidity and very little movement in the atmosphere for extended weeks recently), the sudden rush of cool air over the long weekend and today is a sudden awakening, reminding us that time is passing.
Itʼs a little hard to concentrate as I type (on Tuesday), the wild winds keep mustering new sounds and clatters, even switching around sufficiently to suddenly slam the door shut with a surprising thump. It seems all I do is peck out a few words and leap up to check on something or actually pick something up or open the door and fix the doorstop in place. Quite an active day. And the busy bushes and leaves keep dancing erratically and unexpectedly, so my eye wanders easily to the window with each new movement. This situation is not being productive for work, although I did pen an anniversary card for my brother Paul and his wife Nancy, exploring life together now in a parsonage as heʼs as a minister (and we need to plan a visit sometime to hear him preach). The card will arrive late because I wasnʼt thinking clearly about the Labor Day holiday (I was going to get it in the mail Monday — ha).
It is a bright and clear day, however. The air is moving so quickly that clouds canʼt gather or are shoved by overhead like disintegrating race cars. The sun shines bright, intensely, but with little warmth. Dressed indoors with long sleeves and sweatpants (and socks), I feel apprehensions, forebodings, of the winter ahead — inappropriate to such a fine, clear day, really, but very sensible when the temps hover below 70° an hour after noon. With the card written and enveloped, I should seek out the new address and brave the gales to the mailbox and take a walk to the bank as well. Both good excuses to keep this post short (and breezy).