All Four of the Anemoi

January 22, 2022

All Four of the Anemoi

The wind kept me up, tossing and turning, long after my head hit the pillow; the house was shaking by the force of the gusts, the big mirrored closet doors creaking, a blue light glowing in another room - the printer, power going in and out, playing havoc with the electronics. The clink of a pot top downstairs - damnit, the cat's up on the counter - well I can't do anything about the wind, or the creaking, or the power, but I can take care of that cat. After that sleep finally found me; I don't know what time the wind let up, but the morning was calm and I, along with a plethora of neighbors ventured out to survey the damage that 80 mph gusts inflicted on our little piece of the city. Worse than expected - the big street trees - majestic pines - fallen over onto peoples' homes, others splintered, split in half, blocking the streets, sidewalks lifted Small clusters of people talking, stunned by the extent of the damage. Funny, we often seem to avoid the worst wind storms; not this time though, it seems as though all four of the Anemoi - Boreas, Zephyrus, Notos, Euros - worked in unison last night, doing a job on us living just below the mountains.

There is a Heart song that always comes to mind at these times - mysterious, seductive, dangerous - a favorite by the sisters Wilson, starting off quiet, but then boom:

"...I have always held the wheel but
I let the wind steal my power

Spin me 'round lose my course

Nights run by like hours

Well, it would show me the way

To the deepest mountains

Too high and beautiful to be

Mistral, mistral wind..."

(Wilson, Wilson, Fisher and Ennis)

all those dried stalks were standing upright the last time i rode through here, but the wind laid them low

Honestly, I was planning to ride up canyon this morning anyway, but the damage in the city were extra coals to stoke that fire and, though I wasn't really expecting any untoward damage up there, let alone be able to tell a tree downed last night from one downed a week or more ago, I was still curious to see how they might have fared through the onslaught.

As it turned out the big Alders growing along the stream, and the scattering of Sycamores and Oaks did just fine. The only "problem" was in the Eucalyptus grove, just below the Maw of Evey, where a downed one completely blocks the trail. Since it is not a "real trail," if you know what I mean, no agency is going to come along and clear a way through. So, if you have a good hand saw, maybe bring it along on your next ride up there. Being resourceful sorts, I'm pretty sure we can get it cleared on our own.