At last they’ve come, the howling winds of March. Hang on to your car door or it will slam into the adjacent car. Forget keeping your hair from blowing into a new arrangement. Tie on your hat if you don’t want to go running across the parking lot to retrieve it before it blows into traffic. Put off planting lettuce seeds until the gale dies down. Hang laundry out to dry if you don’t mind a wet sheet wrapping around your head while you underwear takes off for the neighbor’s cornfield. In short, batten down the hatches and wait it out.
We’re caught in the vortex between cold air approaching from the northwest and warm air coming up from the Gulf of Mexico. We’re excited because these conditions are ripe to bring us desperately needed rain. It's so dry a handful of garden soil sifts through our fingers like salt from a shaker. Our gravel road’s dust coats our cars inside and out. Fifty pounds of grass seed are scattered over the yard and they need a good drink of water from the sky. The only good thing is that the hens don't get their eggs dirty by stepping on them with muddy feet.
Bring it on, March Wind, bring us the water we long for.
Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer