My weather apps warned me about the coming high wind – The wind that would blow for the next twenty hours. What it didn’t do was warn me about how that wind would affect me, how it would play with my mind, how it would invade my sleep and my dreams.

The first of three warnings came in the morning and called for sustained winds of 25-30 miles/hour with gusts up to 50 miles/hour. We had certainly seen much worse at the farm, and I wasn’t concerned.

When the wind arrived in the late afternoon, it started slow enough and mild enough, but as daylight faded, it picked up speed and didn’t let up. It was constant and the sound, while not loud, seemingly surrounded the house, whirling, gusting and then returning to a constant blow. It stayed with us for the evening while we ate dinner and later when we were watching TV. A low and plaintive howl, it was the backdrop for the entire evening.

Eventually it was bedtime and I took Carmen outside one last time. Usually, she runs around, checks out the barn, does her last potty, and then ambles back to the house, in no hurry. This night? She took off like a bat out of hell running for the barn, barking with her big girl voice the whole way. She stood near the fence by the barn with her hackles up, barking madly into the dark and against the wind. I could hear our neighbors’ dogs barking in return from a quarter mile away. The wind had all of us on edge and a little uneasy I guess. Eventually I grabbed Carmen and we returned to the house.

My sleep, such as it was, was unsettled. We always keep at least one window open in our bedroom and that night as I lay in bed, I felt the wind mockingly caress my face, while infiltrating my mind. In the distance, I heard a tree crash to the ground. There were voices in the night air – groans, moans, creaks, cries and mutterings. Human or animal, real or imagined I cannot say. The hours passed with my mind in a fog between wakefulness and shallow sleep. Throughout, the wind was there with me. It inhabited my dreams, and made them restless. Not quite nightmares, they were nonetheless uneasy and agitated. I remembered them distinctly during the night, but by dawn they were gone, as if the wind itself blew them away.

It was a bad night’s sleep. When dawn was just breaking, I got up. Although I’d slept horribly, there was no reason to stay in bed. The wind was still blowing and I knew no better sleep was coming my way. Carmen and I fed the horses, then I fed Carmen. Finally, I turned on the coffee pot.

I sat at our kitchen island drinking my coffee. Looking out the window, I could see the wind rippling across the pond in the early light. I sighed, and knew It would continue to blow for several more hours. Taking another sip, I tried to clear the cobwebs that occupied my mind.