It's spring. Apparently.
Pollen is in the air, and our lungs.
The other day I had to get off my bike as I came to a standstill. I almost got strangled by my helmet. Luckily a house didn't land on me.
These torrid turbulent times are very unsettling.
Apparently more crime happens on windy days. You can see why, with all that noise, debris and hair getting stuck in your lip gloss.
Mark Twain said
"Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get."
Why am I talking about this?
Because I have run out of other things to talk about.
That's not true. There's heaps going on, things I feel that might be nice to share in here but I'm not quite ready to.
Windy days test us. Maybe that's why "Tempest" rhymes with "test." hmmm. perhaps not. Sounded better in my head, I couldn't really sound it out though because there was so much whistling going on in there.
This morning it was still and I could hear the birds. It's one thing to listen but another to truly hear.
I have had to listen to a few of my dreams and intuitions lately and am going out on a limb for people I care about because the noise is getting too loud.
We can only go on so long listening but not hearing. Eventually, hopefully things will sink in.
I'm being vague here. The hope is that it's making you think about something you haven't been hearing. Or someone who hasn't been hearing you.
I guess that's the hope with all my more insightful personal posts, that my me opening up something, you see that we all have these feelings in our own complex different ways, and sometimes we need a little nudge to listen to them.
Before I blow out any more hot air, I'm off.
Jj
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