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Morning View Kentucky
3 February 1959
Hello Mr. McCarthy,
The next time the 61d Farmer's almanac comes up with a "mild and
wild" weather forecast, as was the case on Wet Wednesday (21 Jan)
I am going to start digging a cyclone cellar. While most in the
Cincinnati area were Spattering soggily about wondering what to do
with unwanted water, the tree patch, perched on its narrow ridge
top, was undisturbed by water, but was in frequent danger of blowing
into the valley below.
By three o‘clock Wednesday morning, the wind had increased in velocity
until it rushed through the big trees with the roar of a mighty train
in a tunnel. I was not disturbed, having learned by experience that
so long as the wind maintains its deep, booming roar, it is doing no
damage. Only when the sound ascends the scale to a shrill, whining
hiss are the trees in danger. However, indulging in the tremendous
enjoyment I derive from watching weather in action, I arose and stood
idly about outside, exhilarated by the tumultuous darkness.
Later, when I returned indoors and reluctantly lit the kitchen light
because I coudln't very well build a cup of coffee in darkness, I was
suddenly startled to see a small bird fluttering desperately against
the glass of a side window. Due to the terrific wind, I could not open
that window, but I hastily lit the back floodlight and opened the
back door, with an idea of working my way around the corner and getting
the little bird. Before I could step outside, he swirled around the
corner like a blown leaf, recovered himself in the relatively calm
air behind the house, and unhesitatingly flew into the kitchen, where
he settled on the finial of a corner cupboard. I had assumed he was
the inevitable Carolina Wren, but discovered he was one of the dozen
Goldfinch who inhabit the pond-field. I had not recognized him at once
as he wore his dull winter garb instead of his shining golden feathers.
He remained atop the cupboard, interested in neither food nor water nor
in going outside, until late afternoon when the front had passed and
changing wind directions coupled With falling temperature to indicate
that the storm was over. Hardly had the wind shifted from south to west,
when he flew against the glass of the door, and, upon being let out,
darted away to the sheltered hollows of the pond-field.
‘he morning wore stormily along, until, around eleven, there was a
deceptive lull. Rain ceased pounding down, and the wind modified to
no more than 20 miles per hour. Ragged gaps permitted brief sunshine
through the low clouds which continued to sweep furiously northward.
I had been Wandering about, and Was fortunately standing near the back
of the house when, without warning, a terrific gust of wind exploded
into the tree patch from a southeasterly direction. I shouted to the