The only weather element I hate is the wind.
Oh how I hate the wind. And I don’t mean the nice breeze that blow by and tickles you in the Springtime. I mean the howling ripping destructive mean bitter wind that comes around at the worst times, coldest times, rainiest times.
I hate how it knocks stuff over.
I hate how even the sound makes me cold as does thinking about the animals out in that cold wind and me hoping they have shelter enough.
I hate its callous cruel shredding tossing ways as it vandalizes tree limbs and sheers off doors everywhere, laughing as it passes.
I hate the goose bumps I have from a draft that the wind is forcing in through a crack somewhere and teasing my wind hate on the tops of my thighs.
I charge the wind with the crime of reminding me of my lack of insulation.
The lion roars outside and I begin my wait for the lamb.
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Wind depresses me. Always has. Out waiting for Anna’s bus, thirteen degrees and oh look! there goes someone’s trash can…
Ferrel kitties got extra food this morning.
Thank you for feeling my disdain alongside me. Poor kitties.