The wind has been howling with such strength and power that it can easily whip the cowboy hat right off your head, sending it spiralling in the air before it returns to earth rolling so rapidly along the ground that even on horseback, you are hard-pressed to catch up and retrieve it.
My mother-in-law (Scots) used to say, never cast a klute (guess at spelling) until the month of May is out, her somewhat obscure way of noting that you should never discard your long underwear until May was done. Seems absurd, but working cowboys are nodding in agreement.
Advice to heed right now if you head outdoors for the workday. The only time this past week when our crew would have wished they had shucked their thermal undergarments was on Saturday-Sunday as they worked long hours fighting our first forest fire which was further inflamed by howling wind. Thousands of gallons of water were required to bring it under control.
Locally one might assume that the extra volume of snow, late arrival of spring (lack of warmth) and loggers on-break-up signifies that all is well (wet) in the woods (forest/grasslands) in the Cariboo. It’s not so — the constant winds have dried out the land and there are several fires presently burning in the region.
Winds of change are blowing too, province-wide as forecasters view political jousts and skirmishes as we draw near to voting (decision) day.
After viewing the televised leaders-debate, my only firm conclusion was that not one single candidate rose up from the crowd, none oozed charisma or strength of convictions in my eyes (regardless of their political-affiliation).
In the face of the physical and mental realities of life this past week, I think Bob Dylan called it…
The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind. The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
Liz Twan is a rancher and freelance columnist for the Tribune.