The wind, Sunday, was a monster, tossing leaves here and there, scooting them down the street, swirling them in piles in the corners of buildings, flinging them back into the trees. It was cold, relentless, unfeeling, tugging at people’s coats, carrying away the furry hats, breathing its shivery breath down collars.
It blew up a few scattered drops of frozen rain but was in too much of a hurry to wait for more. It had places to go, things to do, chimneys to roar down, and limbs to carry across lawns.
It ranted and raved all night, battering houses, hammering at windows, rattling doors. “Why so angry?” I asked. “Why are you in such a cold, unfeeling mood?”
“I’ve a new season to see to,” it breathed. “Gone is the last remnant of summer. Times change, days shorten and nights grow long. I have to clear the way, make room for winter as it prepares its grand entry.”
“Your mood leaves somewhat to be desired,” I retorted. “Winter could have settled in peacefully, perhaps in a gentle snowfall. Winter doesn’t have to resemble a wild beast.”
But, the wind paid no attention to a mere mortal. It continued its wild rampage, a prankster, a trickster, a cold and blustery thing. And, not to be trusted at all.
Manos Mysteries
Cozies with an Extra Shiver
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