by Stephen Alexander

Created on: March 15, 2010

Howling Winds

Last night, the winds howled, literally. For the most part, such zoomorphic references base a descriptive characteristic such as this on something only tangentially associated, e.g. a whooping cough or baying at the moon. In this case, the winds actually did make a howling sound much like an animal and enough to keep me up half the night. These mighty winds buffeted this small cottage but not enough to cause the brick walls to shimmy and shake. It was more akin to a team of mighty water buffalo futilely hammering their ample horns against unforgiving masonry.

The wintry weather here continues to surprise. Residents along the mid-Atlantic seaboard have experienced as well as endured weather conditions unheard of in most of their lifetimes. For my part, I was of the fallacious opinion that moving south of the Mason-Dixon Line would bring balmier climes and attendant warmer temperatures; this has hardly been the case. Last night, I ventured across the road to a small Thai restaurant to have dinner.

When I left my quarters, the rain fell steadily but not so much as to be uncomfortable. When I exited this bistro, the rainfall had increased to a torrent, driven sideways by powerful gusts of wind. This being a coastal area, there is a natural proclivity toward flooding; large puddles had already formed along the roadway and in the parking areas. I am none too steady on my feet these days so the driving rain, the incessant winds and the impassable puddles combined to make my return passage treacherous indeed.

As one might expect, out on the beach, the turbulent winds continue to roil the waters while the stoic seagulls muster in closer proximity to the safety of the buildings. Only recently, I watched a slow, steady, procession of pelicans returning from the south in single file, as is their wont. Now, presumably, they may regret having migrated this early in the season. I suspect their usual fishing grounds are not now as viable as they might typically be.

After the high seas and snowstorm experiences the Outer Banks of North Carolina endured a couple of weeks ago, I thought I had seen it all. This gale force storm, however, is right up there with the turbulent tides as well as the recent blizzard. With gusts approaching 50-60 mph, locals continue to batten down the hatches as well as anything that might be susceptible to having the high winds carry them away.

Meantime, the howling continues unabated; a pack of wild dogs seems to sit just outside my door, accompanied by the inescapable drone of engines like those of a NASCAR rally. In time, hopefully, this will all calm and a pervasive sense of tranquility will once again suffuse this coastal community.

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