They call Chicago the Windy City. I've been to Chicago. They've got nothing on windy Western New York. The winds here lately have been incredible. I have a huge old maple tree in my back yard, right up by the house, and I wonder sometimes if it isn't going to be blown right through the roof one of these days.
I am in the unique position of being a native to this area, and yet able to look at things from a newcomer's perspective. While I was born and raised here, I moved away over 35 years ago, and since I’ve come back a lot of things are "new" to me again. You tend to take for granted the sights and sounds of a place if you've never been anywhere else for any length of time. When I was gone, I missed hearing the waves lap against the shore of Lake Erie on a calm day, and the sound of waves rolling in on a rough day. I love the wind. I love the way it moans and whistles and the way it can make a low roar as it rushes over the lake. You never realize how much the wind moves a place until you don't feel it anymore. I lived in tornado country for a couple decades and while the prospect of a tornado heading my way was a bit scary, it was exciting too. It meant it was windy, much like home. I’ve never seen a tornado up close, but it kicks up a powerful wind before and after the event. The wind we had here a week or so ago was absolutely awesome! The waves against the breakwall in Westfield were like explosions, flying high into the air and spreading out like a bomb exploding, as if they'd beat the wall down with their sheer force. The beach, such as it is, in Ripley is practically nonexistent now. The ice has built up against the cliff, making its own breakwall before the waves as they try to hit the cliff face. The spray from the crashing breakers reached 30 feet high, soaking us while standing at the top. This display of nature's potency was magnificent.
The lake and the wind; the two most powerful forces here along the lakeshore. They had become a part of me without my even knowing it. The lake was my compass, albeit an inaccurate one, always pointing me north. When I moved to the Great Plains I was lost. There was no large body of water to guide me. It took me years to figure out what direction I was going since I never was much good at using the sun as an indicator. It keeps changing position, you see, and hence is an unreliable source. I am easily confused�?I did have one natural body of water to help me along my way however, the Mississippi River. Generally the river runs north and south, so if you’re in Minneapolis you are west of the Mississippi, and if you’re in St. Paul you’re east of the river. Unless of course, you lived in the bow of the river that runs through the city of St. Paul, as I did, then you were east, west and north of the river. I’m so glad to be back home where north is really northwest and south is over the hill. There’s no place like home…there’s no place like home.
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