No One Told Us about the Fog and Wind!

Let me begin with the fog.  Sometimes it is so thick you can't see the house next door, and worse, when you're driving the winding mountain road, you often can't see beyond the hood of your car.  Can't see the car ahead of you. Can't see a car approaching.  Can't see the lines in the road.  Very scary indeed, especially when you need to make a left turn!  Best advice is don't drive in that kind of fog.  Unfortunately, there are times that you just have to, and I have a few unforgetable times.  I learned a few detours through Twin Peaks and Crestline, but they don't always help.  In short, there are times that lookin' out my back door, I can't see a darn thing.

Consequently this has ruined a few special occasions, Mother's Day being one.  My son drove up from San Diego on Saturday, but by Sunday the fog was so bad my daughter couldn't make it up at all.  The barbecue we had planned was not as pleasant as I'd imagined.  It was sooo cold that even when the fog receded for a few minutes and we could dash out to the deck to barbecue, well, it was freezing

.

But we did manage to cook our chicken after all.

Now the WIND is another story.  Unlike the fog that is an occasional problem, the wind--at least up here on the north side of the lake at the top of the mountain--is an almost daily challenge. Now I have to admit that we asked for it in a way.  We chose to live above the treetops with a wide-open deck that gives us a stunning view of the mountains and lake--a gorgeous photo-worthy view.  But with it comes wind, sometimes mildly annoying and sometimes downright fierce. 

I love sitting on the deck but the sun can be intense, so we installed a retractable awning and placed an umbrella in our patio table.  Unfortunately, when the wind is even mildly annoying, it can damage the awning or launch the umbrella clear off the deck.  

Then there are the house-shaking fierce winds that no one told us about when we bought the house.  In fact, our first night here after a grueling day of loading and unloading and unpacking, we collapsed into bed only to hear the wind howling outside, slamming the patio furniture across the deck, and making a racket in the chimney of our master bedroom fireplace.  Needless to say we couldn't sleep and even questioned if we made the right decision.  Would we be able to feel at home here?
 
Yet now--eight months later--I have to admit that the wind is winning me over.  I love to watch the trees as they sway and bend, especially the aspens that stretch in a graceful arc, and to listen to the sound of the leaves as they quiver and murmur, a gentle shushing sound that soothes and calms.  Even the harsher howls have a power that reminds me that there is a greater force at work somewhere out there.
 
Native Americans see the wind as a divine messenger, a sacred force and energy that we should listen to and respect. Well, I'm beginning to listen, and with the utmost respect.