Tuesday, June 21, 2005


It’s a quarter to five and the sky is just now beginning to show some silver along the eastern edge. I can see the trees outside of my study window, in silhouette, and they are not moving at all, so that means that we should have a warmer day than yesterday. And the view reminded me of something that my granddaughter posted to her blog the other day…the wind rushing through the top of the trees; a drastic change from the sirens running past my bedroom window several times a night…She was writing of her time spent in Westwood, an old mill town in Lassen County, far away from her normal burdens of city life. And when I read it, I was transported back to our life in Janesville. The sound of the wind in the tree tops was quite dramatic, yet soothing at the same time; a paradox. You would hear a whisper at first. Looking up, you would see the thin tops of the pines begin to sway. The sound would quickly build to a roar and the tops would be swirling in every direction. And then, just as quickly as it began, the wind would fade away for a moment or two. And all during this time of tumult, you could barely feel a breeze at ground level. As if the trees were doing their utmost to protect you.

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