Sometimes, the twirling and compression zones are quite large, as the satellite pictures at the Weather Channel show. The entire Pacific Ocean gets into the act for months and months, pinning everything and everyone in place with anger and fury of biblical proportion. And, if something is not strapped down, it will end up in Toledo, or Chicago, or...
Remember the history of Lewis and Clark, the Corps of Engineers that traversed the Mississippi and headed west to chart the new West Territory, the one that gave impetus to that historical event called the Oregon Trail? Well, Lewis and Clark got to the mouth of the Columbia, the river that separates Oregon from Washington State, and the group was pinned down for months by the terrible weather they encountered. For months, they couldn't move, had to stay put at camp, chewing on rawhide, hard tack, beans and roots. Since they couldn't move, they probably couldn't hunt, couldn't wash their clothes, couldn't take too many moonlit walks. They relied on the local native population for food and supplies for themselves and for their animals.
Well, the weather is still the same, I'm here to report.
Last night, after a glorious sunny Wednesday, the weather changed to a Pacific storm that pounded us all night, winds and rain and branches and anything that wasn't pinned down whirled and slammed against the house, against cars. Trees fought each other, and the old ones collapsed.
No wonder I had a headache all night!
No wonder this morning I can't think of anything else
We have these storms- 50-80 miles per hour winds and torrents of water- for a good seven months, lasting a few days at a time. After a storm, a beautiful sunny day kisses us all back to good spirits. At the end of the rainy season, in June, the tourists will arrive and marvel at the old groves, the amazing green pastures, the spectacular clear skies, the hardiness of people and things. They marvel and envy those of us who moved here. They won't understand this strange attachment we have to all this danger.