The wind is blowing again tonight.
It's easy to forget the wind. It is mostly kind of quiet. Even when it roars, it rarely says anything worth remembering.
I moved here from the coast. Wind country. A calm day is a rare treat back there.
Here, calm is the norm. First, I found the place lacked character because of this. Actually, the lack of wind and the incessant forrest everywhere you (try to) look, conspired to give me this weird clostrophobia. I used to drive to the north, just to get a little view. To breathe.
But this holiday it has been windy. Here, that is called a 'storm'. Jeez. I could show these people a real storm. They would be scared. It seems that if it rains here, and it isn't completely calm, it's a 'storm'. Boo-hoo!
Even the trees around here are wimps when it comes to the wind. They just give up. They feel something tugging at their branches, and they go "OK. That's it. I give up." And with that, it starts to rain. Trees. Branches fall from these wusses like they are getting paid for it. I will wake up in the morning, after barely hearing the wind rustling some leaves during the night, and in the morning there will be this humongous branch, violently sprawled across our road.
I can just imagine the mounds of conceded woods, littering the streets tomorrow.