Kingdom of the Wind

When the wind blows this hard (gusts up to 67 miles an hour), I feel like I've entered another country, a howling, raging place, a Kingdom of the Wind. I wake to its sound.

The bamboo beats a rough staccato on the siding, and there's a clanging I can't quite place. Is it a rogue bucket on the deck, or old Jacob Marley rattling his chains?

With winds this high, either Dulles Airport is closed, or diverting its traffic to an alternate runway, one that goes ... right over our house! So on top of wondering if a tree will fall, I'm worried that a plane will, too.

An unsettled morning to be sure, with government offices closed and my office shuttered. I have one question: Will the errant branch we call the Sword of Damocles finally be blown out of the old oak? It's dancing madly out there now, but is so wedged in place that it lingers still.

Just lost power ... just got it back ...

It will be a long day here in the Kingdom of the Wind.