It is blowing a gale out there and I am not happy, too many memories of high winds and damage done. I know full well that being powerless to do anything about it, beyond chaining down the buckets, is what freaks me out most about it.
Who Has Seen the Wind?
by Christina Rossetti
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you.
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.