Winds of Change

I awoke during the night and heard the wind moaning, the tree-house outside our bedroom window creaking as the tall trees swayed.  We were packing today, departing tomorrow morning for Atlantic Beach (see previous post) and there were  many errands to run.  But first I had planned to run at least five miles, the last opportunity before two days of travel and uncertain weather conditions which seemed to be developing.  I had arranged to meet my friend Skip at Founders Park before running - he is moving to Tryon, packing up much more comprehensively and permanently than we were, and was giving me a very nice turntable - and it was good to see him again, perhaps for the last time in weeks or months.  We will meet again, I am sure, and it was a hearty and jovial farewell, but I will miss running with him nearly every Saturday.  As we both drove down Oak Street, I turned down the First Street hill and he drove down Oak Lane toward Franklin, both of us taking different roads on this day when the winds of change whirled leaves up all around us, my big SUV rocking in the wind when I parked at the Post Office. 

There was nobody at Founders Park when I returned a few minutes later - Vicki had said she might be there - so I started out by doing a two-mile loop.  The wind was so strong that it seemed to stop me in my tracks when I turned the corner of Fifth Street, and I zipped my fleece vest up tight; when I turned another corner, I felt almost as if I was overdressed.  I seemed to be walking that tightrope between tolerable conditions and real discomfort, swaying back and forth from minute to minute.  I found myself taking a kind of perverse joy in being the only runner out this morning.  Harris Lake looked as choppy as the ocean, and I felt as if it was even blowing a little lake-spray on me.  No sign of Vicki on my second loop, but I spied another runner far ahead of me on my next loop; I knew I could never catch him, so I reversed my loop and waited for him at the Park.  And there he came, Fred, topping the little hill at Carolina Way, wearing (unbelievably) shorts.  A real warrior! - and ten years my senior.  He will be running a race in two weeks with Paul and Jennifer and I wished him luck, the wind howling around us as we parted.  Many departures this day.  I ran a mile or so more, finishing up my five miles, and Vicki was just pulling out in her car:  "I ain't running in this wind!" she cried through a crack in her window.  I smiled and said good-bye to her, too, and was glad of the sanctuary in my little car.

I think this might have been a Strong Breeze today, according to the Beaufort Wind Scale:  "Large branches in motion; whistling heard in telephone wires; umbrellas used with difficulty."  Or maybe even a Moderate Gale:  "Whole trees in motion; inconvenience felt when walking again wind."

So the inconvenient wind continued to blow all day as I went from place to place running my errands and returned to prepare for another departure and another arrival.