Large sheets of plastic got loose and flew across the prairie attaching itself to some trees at the edge of a cornfield. The plastic flaps wildly in the incessant northern Illinois wind suggesting a industrialist version of Tibetan prayer flags.
Have I mentioned that the wind is an invisible but inseparable element of our landscape? It's for this reason that dead calm strikes fear in the heart of a flatlander - the calm before the storm.
4 comments:
I remember a night when I was in junior high school. We lived in Gary, Indiana and tornado watches were out. It was hot and there was no wind... so still, not even the crickets or any birds were singing.. just total hot, dark, silence. This was just before a tornado ripped down our street and took out the church right beside our parsonage. That triplet will still strike fear into my heart.
I agree. I've never felt more fearful than in a dead calm. It's downright spooky and portends bad things.
I'm with you - hate those dead calms. Just eerie.
And I've always called all that plastic "urban tumbleweeds". I bet the come from hundreds of miles away.
This is the kind of scene I fully expect to see one day when I visit my woods. The strew of trash will eventually reach that far.
pablo
www.roundrockjournal.com
Post a Comment