Very timely, as we’re under a “fire watch wind advisory” tomorrow. Your Chesapeake adventure(s) with storm(s) is terrifying just reading about—glad you all made it through safely!
My wind story is from Fall, 1983. Mike & Lauren had come out to Seattle for Kyle’s baptism the weekend after Thanksgiving. We had a terrific storm on Thanksgiving that knocked out the power. I can still see Lauren standing at our dining room glass door watching the trees in the woods behind us as they bent and twisted—she was very worried that one (or more!) might fall on the house. Fortunately, none did, the power came back on the next day, and we had Thanksgiving one day late.
Julie,Julie, Julie! You evoked such fond memories of sailing on the Chesapeake that I now must go back and reread the rest of your post that I somehow skimmed over.
I only have one small quibble: I was taught that gentlemen never tack into the wind. Sure, the practice might cause occasional navigation challenges, but a gentleman always has enough leisure to do things properly.
I love your suggestion to walk and sit in the same place three days in a row, I'm going to do that. I have a close friend who has walked up a local mountain every Wednesday of the year and plans to keep it going for all of 2024. She pauses in the exact same place and takes it in as well as takes a picture. Sometimes it's so overcast she has zero visibility and takes the image anyway. A lovely project of presence.
Of immersion in the wind: Today I watched teens skate circles around a roller rink. That made a kind of wind, though I’ll need to find another place to sit three different days. :-)
Very timely, as we’re under a “fire watch wind advisory” tomorrow. Your Chesapeake adventure(s) with storm(s) is terrifying just reading about—glad you all made it through safely!
My wind story is from Fall, 1983. Mike & Lauren had come out to Seattle for Kyle’s baptism the weekend after Thanksgiving. We had a terrific storm on Thanksgiving that knocked out the power. I can still see Lauren standing at our dining room glass door watching the trees in the woods behind us as they bent and twisted—she was very worried that one (or more!) might fall on the house. Fortunately, none did, the power came back on the next day, and we had Thanksgiving one day late.
Julie,Julie, Julie! You evoked such fond memories of sailing on the Chesapeake that I now must go back and reread the rest of your post that I somehow skimmed over.
I only have one small quibble: I was taught that gentlemen never tack into the wind. Sure, the practice might cause occasional navigation challenges, but a gentleman always has enough leisure to do things properly.
I love your suggestion to walk and sit in the same place three days in a row, I'm going to do that. I have a close friend who has walked up a local mountain every Wednesday of the year and plans to keep it going for all of 2024. She pauses in the exact same place and takes it in as well as takes a picture. Sometimes it's so overcast she has zero visibility and takes the image anyway. A lovely project of presence.
In very old times, they’d all have been hitched to a waterwheel or plow. 😅
Of the storm: Yikes!
Of immersion in the wind: Today I watched teens skate circles around a roller rink. That made a kind of wind, though I’ll need to find another place to sit three different days. :-)
Windblown,
Head down,
I traverse the shore.
On a still, summer day
Heat would bear down
And I’d wade in up to my knees
But this is spring.
Seaspray leaps
Dancing in the gusts
Sandpipers, curlews and sanderlings
Hushed
Nestle behind miniature berms.
Hat gripped in my fist
I push curls from my face
Quicken my pace
Anticipate
An extra-hot latte.
Today’s walk is going to be short.
“Are we not projecting our inner…”
I wrestle with this one often. My answer is yes, but how much is the responsibility? Is it mere participation?
What a powerful and scary experience with the wind, Julie!