I'm an outdoors person. I bike and hike, fish and ski and if locked inside for too long, I begin to breathe heavy (which contrary to my husband's belief does NOT mean I'm "in the mood"!) Being a writer, I make money out of what I'm fond of calling "thin air," meaning I could do what I do anywhere in the world, but I choose to live here, in an outdoor person's paradise.
So, as a diehard enthusiast that once wished to grow old(er) here, I feel sorrow that my resolve is beginning to waver. I watch the receeding end of the vans moving our neighbors south and for the first time I feel envy and not anger at their mutiny. Can I come visit? Often?
It isn't merely that the annual summer has dwindled to two weeks. The fact that only very healthy fish can survive in our lakes without a wet suit is bearable, too. I don't mind that every second year becomes a new record in snowfall or precipitation. Or flooding. Or that the price of fuel and fresh produce is ridiculous.
No, for me it's this wind. I usually love wind. But lately I wish it had more of a physical form so I could swat at it. I am a self-professed wind-whipped whiner that wants to know, "Is the sky falling?" or are the rumours true? Have all the clear-cuts around here caused the non-stop racket coming from my wind chimes? Is it really the shrinking ozone to blame, because if it is, I would like to offer to go door-to-door demanding people stop usiong aerosols.
Or maybe this is another ice age, like the one cheery fellow felt was a possibility?
All I know is I am freezing even when the sun is out, that I've had to replace three Canadian flags in 8 months and the future that I had tied to this ground beneath my feet is slowly beginning to blow away.