That’s the current wind speed as recorded at the local general aviation airport. It’s coming out of the south and howling like I’ve never heard it before. The power and phone lines to our house run through our neighbor’s maple tree. It’s flickering now and then, and I keep watching the branches shaking the lines like a paint mixer.
I keep waiting for a tree to come down or a door to be ripped from it’s hinges. We’ve got a wind warning through until 9am tomorrow. It’s going to be a fun night, *eek*.
“And I can hear the wild wind howling
And I can feel it in my bones
And I know that the howling will take me home”
– Rich Mullins
We live in a house built into the side of a hill, facing the mountains to the west. As a result of this orientation, we get some really wild winds here. Once it starts howling, it just keeps getting louder and louder until you would swear that the whole house is going to blow away. The near-constant howling of the fall and winter seasons reminds me of this song by Rich Mullins.
We just marked our first year in this “new to us” home, and the howling started almost as if on queue this past weekend. The winds were so strong that they nearly knocked me off of my feet when I went outside to get the mail. The previous-previous owners of the house installed the storm doors backwards to prevent them from being ripped off of their hinges.
The winds here are typically out of the north, but every now and then they will shift. On the rare occasions that the winds come from the south, we know we’re in for some seriously foul weather. When the shift happens, we have to keep the storm doors locked (say it with me now) to prevent them from being ripped off of their hinges. The howling is heard on a daily basis from October to March, and typically from about 11am through to the early hours of morning. We like to crack the bedroom window and listen to it as we drift off to sleep.