I struggled against the 30 mile-per-hour wind, my pants plastered against my straining legs, my upper body leaned forward, my windbreaker arms flapped, its fabric painted me.
The chilled northwest wind never lets up. December 7, 2017, proved a bear I battled for my morning exercise.
Chris’ nose pointed into the wind; his ears pushed back against his head, tail flared out behind him. Although stationary, the wind pictured him in flight.
Bernie also had his ears pinned back. Both dogs were enjoying this punishment.
I struggled on, knowing I had only another three hundred yards before I would turn around…. And then…
My fun began…
I was almost skipping, with the wind at my back; I was almost picked up as I half-skipped down the sidewalk. I felt like a kid, enjoying the sensation and would have traveled a half-mile… but knew I would have to battle that same wind all the way back to the car.
It was fun, though. We had arrived just as the cold sun rose.
Vacant field in the desert. The wind had total freedom to howl. No trees or buildings to blunt its fury. We smelled the embracing fresh air, devoid of pollution.