There's something about a windy night that makes me feel safe. "Safe?" you may ask, "Why would you feel safe when the wind's howling like a hungry wolf, and the house creaks and squeaks as it gets ready to stand up after a long repose?" Well, barring the fact that you wouldn't probably use repose, you may wonder why, which is great because I'm about to explain.
Growing up, I loved to hear the wind whistle by. Wind almost always meant that some kind of precipitation would hitting our roof in the next few hours, be it snow, rain, hail, etc. And I loved precip! I loved the sensory experience of standing on a green, grassy lawn, my arms raised to my shoulders, head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth open, tounge out, as I tasted, smelled, felt, heard, and saw the precip falling towards me from 10s of thousands of feet above my head.
Hearing that wind as a child meant only one thing, and as a result, I've grown to love the sound of wind almost as much as what usually comes after. All that being said, when it's windy and Mary's nerviously looking outside for signs of tornadoes, I'm content to relax on the couch, head tilted back, eyes closed, as I imagine what wonderful weather might be coming my way.
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