The f***ing wind is blowing.
It's been blowing like this for days.
Gusting up to 30 miles per hour.
The trees are whipped around constantly.
Prescott Valley is known for its spring winds. But this, for crying out loud, is the middle of June! When is it going to stop?
Awhile ago, Judy said the front porch is a mess of leaves. She wants to go out and sweep it off. But the damnable wind keeps blowing and more and more leaves keep falling.
We were out this morning and heard a woman in an office say "all the trash from my neighbor's yard is now over in mine."
When the wind blows like this I am often reminded of a line from Slouching Towards Bethlehem, a collection of short stories from decades ago by Joan Didion. She was writing in one of the stories about the Santa Ana winds of Southern California. She wrote something like, when the Santa Anas are blowing, the housewife cleaning up the kitchen after dinner idly runs her thumb along the edge of a butcher knife while absently studying her husband's jugular vein.
Those, my friends, are some evil winds.
Here in Arizona, just like in California, year after year of drought have the forests and the brushlands bone dry and only one spark can set off a conflagration.
Another fire was burning yesterday in once-beautiful Oak Creek Canyon, much of which was charred only a couple of weeks ago by a fire that lasted for days.
Several other fires have been reported around the state. News reports say the entire state is in high fire danger.
And the f***ing wind is blowing.