Big Wind

June 18th, 2012

9:02 p.m. and still very light outside.  I was planting flowers and had no sense of the time–evening, I knew that.  I was surprised when I came in and looked at the clock.   I like the big light on Lake Superior.  Sometimes it makes things seem more possible, as if there’s more time.

Sallie and I walked out to the end of the point before I planted the flowers, and a big wind was blowing.  Swallows soared and tumbled, seagulls glided.  The wind made a Novemberish howl in the electric wires and tossed the spicy smell of the wild roses all around.  Sallie stopped short to face into it, her long ears blown back, her nose quivering, her eyes narrowed in concentration.  While she smelled news I can’t begin to fathom,  I looked at a garden shed painted slate blue, with a blue tin roof and white trim.  A shirt flapped on the clothesline nearby, which seemed perfect.

A big sadness I felt lifted some in the wind, sorted itself out into scale and seemed less important.  I like feeling my smallness in the world.  I like when I know I’m as tossed as the swallows and gulls–as important and as unimportant, as safe and unsafe, as mortal and as eternal.

Laura and I were going to have a word of the day today, but we couldn’t come up with one.  We looked at the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day, which was divertissement (a dance sequence or short ballet, a light instrumental chamber work in several movements, a diversion or entertainment), but we were uninspired by it.  We looked at each other and shrugged, then went back to trying to think of our own word, and never got around to it.  I realized why while I was walking.  It wasn’t that kind of a day.   It was a day for short obvious words.  It was a big wind day.

Category: After Work | Tags: , , , 6 comments »

6 Responses to “Big Wind”

  1. Gwen

    :-) I experienced a big wind night. On Saturday the boys and I assembled the picnic table with umbrella on the back deck. We enjoyed dinner outside. At 3 a.m. Sunday I awoke to a terrible clatter. Banging and clanging, my foggy sleep thought Santa Claus arrived. I looked out the window, and the umbrella was upended on the deck, having heaved itself from the table. So, dutifully, I went outside, turned it upright, closed it shut, and laid it down. I was so happy when the rain poured at 6 a.m. and my umbrella was not a sinking boat. Love, G

  2. Barb Whaley

    I enjoy these so much. THANKS

  3. ellenair

    Gwen, I love to hear moments from your days. Love, Ellen

  4. ellenair

    Barb and Ron–I’m glad. Thank you. Love, Ellen

  5. Pamela Grath

    Words don’t want to be forced, and sometimes when the wind is blowing hard, it carries words away. I can see Sallie from your description, ears blown back. Her nose was undoubtedly going a mile a minute. Glad the wind carried away some of your troubles, too.

    Here’s a happy moment I need to share with you: Yesterday two women came in together, and one insisted that her friend buy SOUTH OF SUPERIOR. She gave it such a thorough rave that all I had to do was agree whenever she paused to ask me, “Don’t you think so?” Indeed! That was my last hardcover copy in stock. Expecting shipment of new paperbacks today. Hope the UPS truck isn’t late! People are happy with PRAIRIE EVERS, too.

    I will think of you today, working hard. I’ll be working, too.


  6. ellenair

    Pamela–Thank you–for everything. Love, Ellen

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