It doesn't get too windy in Seattle but when it does, the clouds and the earth are magnificent to watch.
I sat on our deck today after work to read my book. I was wearing my blue sundress and olive cardigan. As I sat in my wooden Adirondack chair, I closed my eyes. I felt my toes and feet relax into my flip flops and the wind caress my face and hair. I felt all the vertebrae in my spine relax and stack perfectly on top of one another, like Lego blocks. I felt the day blow away, just like sand running through the hands of a child at the ocean.
The Pacific Northwest has a raw quality to it. Different than that of winters in Maine, but raw in the sense of the colors. Blues and greens, grays and blacks, and deep, supple yellow sunsets over white capped mountains. I look beyond my house, that sits in Seattle proper. Beyond the lilac bush and the holly tree. I look beyond to the Olympic Mountains, way out there, beyond where I currently am.
I think about how I used to play in the mountains, the snow, the rocks, the water. Nature is my church. I used to hear people say that and thought, "What are they talking about? I just like to play outside," but now I get it. Nature gets into your cells. Even if you are out there for five minutes. In the chair. On your deck. With your book.
It gets in. It gets things clear. So crystal clear in fact, that you change your reactions. Because you know there's a ripple effect out there. What you do in your own backyard, figuratively and metaphorically speaking, has a direct impact on someone else.Their yard or their heart.
Sit and feel the wind. It will change you. Oh, it will change you for sure.