Storms at the cabin soothe. They shouldn’t. With so many trees so close in, the clacking and clattering combined with the power of weather beating against the windows should encourage caution.
Out here in the desert, the skies darkened yesterday evening for the first time since I’ve been here. Change came barreling over the mountain range, affecting all in its path. After some rain overnight, the wind came today. Cold wind. Cold for here, at least.
My room on post is in a solid, post World-War-era structure, concrete and cinder block. Even it shakes tonight, the wind rattling the door in its insistence to join me inside.
And yet with the difference in the sounds, the unfamiliar voices of the desert, there’s still some comfort here, so far away from home.
The transitory nature of my life used to mean wherever I was, that was my home. Now I miss my home, but I try to learn what I can from my new, temporary home.
Beautiful writing. Smiles, hugs & prayers continue to be sent your way.
Lovely post.
As I am listening to the wind howl here today I can relate on many levels. I am sending good “homey” thoughts your way…
Lovely post.
I miss the desert. Even though I was born and raised in the Midwest, I’m really a desert rat.
Even though you’re not home, the wind is home’s way of speaking to you. It misses you too.