Blustery Days

I hate wind!

I hate how it makes my hair flat and full of static electricity. I hate how it pushes pollen up my nose so that I sneeze all day. I hate how it makes a sunny day feel cold.

But I’m not the only one who hates wind.

My border collie puppy hates wind. Terrified by scuttling dry leaves, he stops and assumes his watchdog face, certain a murderer is creeping up behind us on the way to the park.

Trees hate wind. My street is lined with 70-year-old Chinese Elm trees. When the wind blows, parked cars get hit by falling branches. Happened to me twice in one year. One day I came down the street to discover it completely blocked by a gigantic limb.

Umbrellas hate wind. I’ve lost a few outdoor table ones during windstorms. Later I found them battered and broken, upside down in my neighbor’s back yard.

Californians hate wind that whips up wildfires.

It is said, “If you sow the wind, you’ll reap the whirlwind.”

I don’t know who’s been planting wind, but I sure wish they’d stop it.