The winds were strong on Friday and again for a space last night. Strong fronts moving through. If you've lived in an ill-insulated house on the prairie, you become familiar with what a sustained 25mph wind sounds and feels like. It becomes bred in the bone. So on Friday I merely needed offical NWS (J) confirmation that this was sustained 25mph with gusts to 45. Unfortunately, it does impact the fall leaf display, causing leaves to fall sooner than they otherwise would. But it has a sound and feel all its own. It blew over the dead apple tree in the back yard, just ripped it up by the roots that were left. The tree died about a year ago. Blew over the secondary chicken enclosure, but I had kept them in the main one because I expected to go to Capclave. Thank goodness for that. All dressed up to impress and chasing chickens in the paddock in high wind. What an image. As it was, my carefully dressed hair didn't make it past getting to the car.
And someday I will use this as an image of a world gone wrong, a profaning of the beautiful. I picked up a dog tick on Friday and it attached itself in a fairly private location. I hate ticks. Again, I'm thankful it was not a deer tick. And that I found it pretty quickly, on Sat morning. How it managed to get to its final location through layers and layers, I don't know. But I hate that it's October and still there are ticks and that windy days carry such a risk. Because we know we have infected deer ticks after J came down with Lyme last summer. It's the serpent in paradise image. The wages of sin, of worldliness, the image that nature can harm in the midst of beauty, can sap the very strength and lifeblood from you.
Ok, I'll stop.
Meanwhile, the Mouse King is becoming a recurring image in Cobweb's stories. Not sure I can use all of it, but it matters that I'm writing again and have pushed through some morning page crap that was keeping me from reaching into my hind brain and letting it just come out on the page. Creation first. Edit later.
Post Script: Small wonder the mouse king is on my brain. Mrs. G continues to leave the bodies of mouse princelings, victims of one-on-one combat, strewn on the deck. A mighty dragon she.