Let Them Chilly Winds Blow
It's cold on the mountain tonight, folks. At the moment the temperature is 14°F and the wind is averaging 20 mph. With a relative humidity of 65%, that puts the wind chill somewhere well south of zero.
The incessant wind is producing a symphony of sounds within the house. During the quieter moments, it is as if one is hearing the ocean's never ending roar. Gusts high across the chimney top soon sound the breaking of the waves. The windows creak and bow visibly, sending reflected light to wander across the smooth glass of their panes. The wind whistles around the corners of the house as would a freight train giving warning of its passing. The house frame groans and moans against the gusts, and then again as they subside. The sounds, rising and falling in a cadence of the wind's chosing, will go on and on until dawn.
I'll sleep well among these sounds tonight, snuggled under my Grandmother's quilts she long ago handmade for nights like this.
The incessant wind is producing a symphony of sounds within the house. During the quieter moments, it is as if one is hearing the ocean's never ending roar. Gusts high across the chimney top soon sound the breaking of the waves. The windows creak and bow visibly, sending reflected light to wander across the smooth glass of their panes. The wind whistles around the corners of the house as would a freight train giving warning of its passing. The house frame groans and moans against the gusts, and then again as they subside. The sounds, rising and falling in a cadence of the wind's chosing, will go on and on until dawn.
I'll sleep well among these sounds tonight, snuggled under my Grandmother's quilts she long ago handmade for nights like this.
Comments
Post a Comment