The songs of wind and rain

Looking out the kitchen window on a rainy day.

The first step towards reimagining a world gone terribly wrong would be to stop the annihilation of those who have a different imagination- an imagination that is outside of capitalism as well as communism. An imagination which has an altogether different understanding of what constitutes happiness and fulfilment. To gain this philosophical space, it is necessary to concede some physical space for survival of those who may look like the keepers of our past but who may really be the guides to our future. To do this we have to ask our rulers: Can you leave the water in the rivers, the trees in the forest? Can you leave the bauxite in the mountain?

~ Arundhati Roy, Broken Republic: Three Essays

By the pond.

Michael brought us a symphony of sounds last night.  The rain, so heavy at times it was thunderous, and the wind, which sang a variety of songs throughout the night, came together now and then in a composition that sounded a lot like a giant rainstick had been upended.  A loud shush and swish rattled across the roof and around the house.  Occasionally there was a knock and a push on the front door, the wind asking to come in.

Greens in the rain.

Before the rain arrived, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, announcing the storm to come.  Izzy Cat, who is afraid of storms, did her crouch-run through the living room at the first rumble of thunder.  She hides under the waterbed during storms.  She surprised me when I went to bed by coming up and curling next to me, something she doesn’t usually do unless it’s cold in the house.  It was not cold last night.  I think it was 77°F when I went to bed.  Izzy stayed with me throughout the night.  We kept each other company as we listened to the roars and howls of the wind.  M, of course, did a good job of sleeping through most of it.  I wish I had his ability to sleep soundly through just about anything.

The rain paints its own pictures.

The weather radio added to the sounds of the storm, alerting us to the latest tornado watch, flash flood and high wind warnings.  You might think it was a long night for me, but it went surprisingly fast.  I was fascinated by the boisterousness and what I can only describe as musicality of tropical storm Michael, and the way the sounds would change from moment to moment.  (Note:  I know that when he was a hurricane and he came to shore, Michael caused death and destruction.  We were very lucky.  I am grateful for that, and my thoughts (and whatever I can donate to help) go out to those who were impacted by Hurricane Michael.)

Turkey buzzard gliding with the wind.

This morning, just before sunrise, the clouds began to clear out.  By the time I went out for a walk a few hours later, the sky was mostly clear and dotted with a few puffy clouds here and there.  It’s still quite windy, and considerably cooler.  Autumn has finally arrived, or at least made some inroads when it comes to arriving.  A quick look at the 10-day forecast shows another warm-up this week, but that won’t last more than a day.

Waiting.

I went outside for a couple of hours this morning.  This is my kind of weather.  Breezy, cool, and delightful.  I was afraid Michael might strip the trees of their leaves before they had a chance to change color.  A few trees lost a lot of leaves, mostly the pin oaks and wild cherry.  The majority are still almost fully leafed so it’s possible we’ll see some color this year.  It’s hard to say.  Every autumn is different in terms of the fall colors and foliage.

Morning flight.

There is a lot of debris on the trails.  Leaves, bits of branches, large hunks of branches, and a couple of small trees were thrown around by the wind.  The outbuildings are still standing, but the greenhouse did lose some bits and pieces.  The rain gauge registered 3.5 inches of rain.  I heard on the news that they got over 7 inches of rain up in Salisbury.

One of many puddles.

The power stayed on throughout the night, and then went out around 8:00 this morning after Michael had cleared out.  I suspect our electric co-op folks were out there fixing something and needed to shut things down for a few minutes.  By the time I reported the outage, the beeps and clicks of the power returning were bouncing around the house.

Sweet Gum leaf relaxing in the grass.

I opened up windows throughout the house and I can’t begin to express how wonderful it is to let in the fresh air and drive out the stuffy, conditioned air of summer.

A lot of the zinnias were flattened by the wind and rain, but there are still a few left standing.

Thank you for joining me on a short ramble around the ranch.  I’ll be going out to the Point to watch the sunset this evening.  You’re welcome to join me if you wish.  Sunset is scheduled for 6:31 PM.

Be good, be kind, be loving.  Just Be.  🙂

On the woodland trail.

A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy:  866)  Mother Nature’s symphonies and choruses.  867)  Being able to open the windows again and let the wind blow through the house.  868)  Wonderfully refreshing, cool, dry air.  869)  Spending a few hours outside without the need for a cloud of insect repellent surrounding me.  870)  A little bit of sleep this morning and the anticipation of a nap this afternoon.

Sunlight in the phragmites at the edge of the marsh.

A Walktober reminder and update:  This year’s dates are October 14-28.  I hope you’ll find the time to walk and participate.  (If you need more time, all you have to do is let me know.  If you’re unfamiliar with Walktober, you’ll find a link to a post about it in the sidebar, over there to the right.  Or, if you’re using your phone, maybe it’s at the bottom somewhere.)  I will put up (publish) the official “link to this post” on the 14th. If anyone wants to walk earlier, all you have to do is wait for that post to put in your link or pingback.  I will probably do the round-up of the posts/walks on November 1.  That date depends on whether or not anyone needs and asks for more time.