SOLCMarch 11: The Meaning of Dangerous Winds

            I have sometimes watched the weather reporters at hurricanes, with the wind blowing their ponchos and whipping at trees, and wondered what that felt like. Even considered taking the subway to a beach when a big storm was headed my way. Pictures never substitute for reality. 

            I don’t know what the wind gust speed was on my street today. But when I went out, just to walk around the block, I had to hold onto a building to turn a corner into the wind.

            To establish the setting: I live in Manhattan, Morningside Heights, on a side street known for winds blowing off the Hudson River and up the canyon of apartment buildings. The windiness is mostly unpleasant. Today was different by an order of magnitude.

            A magazine had been delivered to my door that should have been delivered to the building on the next street over. I could have just given it to my doorman to hand back to the magazine delivery people the next morning. Instead, I thought to take it over myself, just to make sure I got out of the house.

            The wind was fierce when I first went out and walked west, toward Riverside Drive, stronger than usual, but not unusually strong. (For those not in New York City, there is a big park between the Drive and the river, so wind isn't directly off the river.) I turned the corner and walked up the block toward the next street. As I reached the corner, however, a gust felt like it would push me back unless I grabbed onto the decorative cornice on the building’s side.

            Once around the corner and out of the wind, I stopped to catch my breath. A man crossing the street stopped, and I recognized the superintendent of my building. He’d seen me struggling with the wind and offered to stay and walk me back home holding onto his arm. I readily agreed, and a good thing I did.

            After delivering the magazine, I took the super’s arm and we started to turn the corner onto Riverside Drive. At that moment, there was a wind gust so strong I could not move into it. Even holding on to the super, I felt like the wind could pick me up and blow me away. After a moment or two, the wind abated enough so we were able to get down the street. If the super hadn’t appeared at that moment, I don’t know how I would have gotten home.

            I have never experienced any wind that I could not walk against, that felt overpowering. Was this a 40-mile-per-hour gust? or stronger? I can't help wondering whether my age (81) and probable loss of muscle mass makes me less able to counter this particular force of nature when it is increasingly forceful.

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I’m participating in the 17th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 11 of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!