It is a blustery day here in Northwest Florida, the day dawned gray, with a spitting of rain, but it has cleared to a bright blue sky with a swirling wind that moves the trees, musses the hair, and reminds you that it is still winter, even in this Southern state, although it is really quite similar to a summer afternoon in San Francisco.
This is the kind of day, that if we had the hills and valley’s of home you would find a few good places with ridge lift and the gliders would be surfing to and fro. It is a kind of day that in Bavaria, we would be attending a fest and enjoying the crapes and wine from the Rhone valley with friends and strangers alike. The wind blows the branches and so many memories.
Thoughts of friends whose lives have been taken far too soon, or those who risked much, but have gained too little sail past my conscience, pushed by the sounds of a wind, coming down the street, funneled by the houses and sounding like a freight train.
It is funny the things that float into your thoughts as you try and still your mind against the wind. I can see clearly the island on the Northern side of Lake Tahoe as it looked on the radar screen in the Boeing 737 we were flying out of Mather AFB in California. It is there bright as day in the dark void of the lake. Did you know that Lake Tahoe is 1,600 feet deep? Only Crater Lake in Oregon is deeper.
I remember seeing Three Dog Night do a show in Tahoe, they were past the glory years but it was a good show. They were in the men’s room when I went in before the show, seemed an awkward time to ask for autograph… ah well!
Skimming down Bryce Canyon in the summer is a bumpy ride, even at 1,000 feet above the highest terrain within 5 miles. There was a tornado just a few miles north of us. It really does create a hook on the radar.