For three days, the wind howled in the canyons, disturbing wildlife and people alike. It skittered like skeletal fingers across the rooftops, causing couples to huddle a bit closer in the darkness of night.
Yet, the wind was simply a cover. The dust that preceded each gust was subterfuge — blinding the victims subdued them.
It came in the wind.
Like a poltergeist, it tipped over full garbage cans, knocked down fences and freed frenzied dogs, sent cats skittering under brush, and kept all winged creatures grounded as it searched. It pulled roof tiles, flowers, and homework pages. It stole bits and pieces of life from its many victims — trinkets found to be unsuitable were scattered far and wide while the choicest morsels were kept and stored away for later days.
When it would come back and feed.
I live close to the foothills. This part of the county is nestled beneath a pass, through which the Santa Ana winds whip for certain months of the year. It arrives, causes havoc, and disappears as if it had never been. And damage is left in its wake, particularly the messes that ensue from neighbors who roll their garbage cans to the curb, thinking them heavy enough to withstand the onslaught. I lost my fence a few years ago and thanks to the local kids, my new-ish fence could use a bit of repair. It is still standing after the last three days of wind and whatever came in it.
The wind took the light cover from the driver’s side of my bumper. While it wasn’t stolen right from my driveway, it was stolen nonetheless. Because Claus requires various special order parts, I will have to wait until after Christmas to get it replaced. In the meantime, I watch for the creature in the wind and hope it takes nothing more.