Tuesday, January 17, 2012

A Roaring Wind

 I first heard it as I regained consciousness from a sound night's sleep.  I thought the nearby Air Force base was flying training runs in the early hours.  It wasn't until I drug myself out of bed and stumbled to the coffee pot that the true source of the sound manifested it's way into my brain.  As the coffee brewed, I leaned against the counter and, in my groggy mind, hoped it would be a tailwind. 

It was still quite dark as I slung a leg over my bike and pushed off for my morning commute.  As I rode through the neighborhoods making my way to the gym, the presence of the wind made itself eerily known.  It was too dark to see it blowing the trees about.  I was sheltered by the houses and could not feel it.  But the sound - oh the sound.  It was veritable roar as it rushed overhead.  It sounded like the echo of an angry giant.  I cringed and pedaled on.  Hoping to escape its notice.

When I left the gym, daylight was starting to dawn.  I stopped a moment to gaze upon the James River and the tempest into which it had been thrown.  In the daylight, I no longer feared it, but instead was simply grateful it was to my back.

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