The Great Basin, despite its mountain ranges, allows storm fronts to blow across the desert, sometimes at hurricane strength. Such a three-day storm created havoc in Carson Valley in mid-May 2025.
I have perfectly spherical stones I found in the Sahara desert where over the eons they were blasted by wind-blown sand and slowly turn into little red globes of solid stone.
We joke about how people living on the Snake River plain would tip over if the wind ever stops.
Every day we get a wind that clears the air in the valley. It's affectionately called the Afternoon Zephyr. Occasionally, though, it cranks up the amperage and blows like a hurricane. That three-day storm brought 85 mph winds to parts of the valley that ripped out trees and destroyed fences, whatever. The people who lived in this house did extensive remodeling, taking off the outer layer and probably reinforced this 1970s house so it wouldn't creak in the wind. It's as solid as a rock. But listening to that wind blow drove me nuts. I'm almost there anyway. I don't need help. Then again, I remember some rampages in Santa Cruz and Boulder Creek that scared the bejesus out of me. 1982 for example. Remember than one?? Oy!
Now there's a subject to write about. It seemed that Santa Cruz was particularly disaster prone. Vicious winter storms and flooding. Disastrous wave action in the harbor. Oh, and remember the snowstorm and how the highway crews or somebody had to trims the trees along the freeway. They looked horrible at first. Then little branches of leaves started to appear. One of our storytellers broke into a rant during one of our performances about the bastardly men who destroyed the trees. Ummm..... Get a grip!
I have perfectly spherical stones I found in the Sahara desert where over the eons they were blasted by wind-blown sand and slowly turn into little red globes of solid stone.
We joke about how people living on the Snake River plain would tip over if the wind ever stops.
"Make it stop, I scream to whatever evil god...'' Perfect!
( I often find this lament escaping my own mouth whenever there is no one else to blame. )
You really embodied the wind here in these words, Sue.
Thank you, Sharron. The wind was coaching me for three days.
Two and a half days too many, if you ask me.
Every day we get a wind that clears the air in the valley. It's affectionately called the Afternoon Zephyr. Occasionally, though, it cranks up the amperage and blows like a hurricane. That three-day storm brought 85 mph winds to parts of the valley that ripped out trees and destroyed fences, whatever. The people who lived in this house did extensive remodeling, taking off the outer layer and probably reinforced this 1970s house so it wouldn't creak in the wind. It's as solid as a rock. But listening to that wind blow drove me nuts. I'm almost there anyway. I don't need help. Then again, I remember some rampages in Santa Cruz and Boulder Creek that scared the bejesus out of me. 1982 for example. Remember than one?? Oy!
You bet I do.
Now there's a subject to write about. It seemed that Santa Cruz was particularly disaster prone. Vicious winter storms and flooding. Disastrous wave action in the harbor. Oh, and remember the snowstorm and how the highway crews or somebody had to trims the trees along the freeway. They looked horrible at first. Then little branches of leaves started to appear. One of our storytellers broke into a rant during one of our performances about the bastardly men who destroyed the trees. Ummm..... Get a grip!
Growing pains in these times at my later age and the poem is strong and real. Thanks, Sue. The photo one can feel.
thank you, Constance. And you're right, that is an awe-inspiring photo.