More wind storms than I can count this week. Fortunately, no trees fell on my house, which is a fear of mine. We have another storm tonight, and I hope the trees stay strong. I do like watching the forms of tall fir sway in the wind, and the sound of so much air forced through the branches. The whistles of the pipes and gutters in the house catch as the air crashes against the windows and the cracks beneath the doors.
Long ago, I learned some things scary can also inspire something else. I have a perfect image of a cascade of sparks spilling over a cliff in Malibu looking like a glowing red waterfall. The brush fires I feared more than anything growing up.
Before the fires were the thunderstorms and tornadoes in Indiana. At the age of five, I knew green churning sky meant something strong and fearful. To this day, I still think it was beautiful.