The page furled in the wind, several, actually as I struggled to control my notebook. The wind was crisp; it blew hair out of my face. A cerulean sky hung over head; the sun casting low.
I watered my potted plants, perhaps for the last time until spring. Snow’s in the 10 day forecast, which seems odd since only a few days ago it was 70 degrees.
Birds were chirping, squirrels doing their thing. They know the season is changing to the dormant time where food will be scarce and only the flimsy bare branches will shelter.
It’s November. We’re on the cusp of winter. Temperatures will be harsh. My thoughts turn to the outside folks; those who live in tents or boxes, occasionally scoring a room at the local shelter. It’s easier…when the weather is fair, but never easy.
Cat Stevens’ “Wild World” blares rather loudly from my Sonos. Two lines rattle for attention:
a lot of nice things turn bad out there
you know I’ve seen a lot of what the world can do
Things are wild out there – the wind messing with the pages of my notebook and the harshness of life messing with those outside. So, take good care and remember a lot of nice friends are out there; if you look.
Facing the wind in a wild world -
If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance