The Roar of the Wind

The wind has a different sound to it this morning–a low roar high above the trees. A lot of snow melted yesterday but a lot still clings to my yard. Once long ago, a wise woman told me that noise as the wind rushed through the heavens meant that ice is on the way. There’s none in the forecast. Did she know something the weathermen don’t?

That sound reminded me of another time, years ago, and the wind rushing through towering birch and pine trees in Minnesota. Only thing, it was summer, not winter. My mother and I were visiting my brother and sister-in-law. Carlene and I had been shopping that day and I had found a Mary Roberts Rinehart book, The Red Lamp. Once I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down. After supper, Mom and I trudged to the guest cabin, and I continued reading.

A storm came up. Lightning flashed through the cabin’s windows. Thunder shook the heavens and the wind, through those majestic trees, roared like a wild thing. The lake was only a few yards away. Would the wind whisk the cabin off its foundation and plop it into those chilly waters?

Needless to say, the book and the storm kept me awake most of the night. The solidly built cabin stayed on its sturdy foundation. But, I finished the whole Rinehart. Did I tell you that The Red Lamp is one of her scariest? I mean it is nail-biting, teeth-chattering spooky.

Anyway, the sound of the wind this morning took me back a few years and a few hundred miles. As Frog said in an Arnold Loebel children’s book, it gave me a case of the shivers.

http://pen-l.com/Mystery.html

http://www.amazon.com/Blanche-Day-Manos/e/B0090018EI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0