Thunderstorms rushed through our valley on howling winds, this morning, calming and rising again and again. Not the freight-train sound of a tornado, nor the gradual rise to sustained high pitch of a hurricane, just a lonely, commonly-known, strong-wind howl. I simply sat and watched tall trees sway and twigs and even branches go flying. Few beech leaves blew away this morning, but some dropped yesterday in the sunshine, warmth, new buds pushing them. Some newly opened daffodils have laid their heads right down on the earth in the face of today's storms.

Some people are weak, and some are very powerful, but who among us all can stop the wind?