It’s not rare for high winds, rain and snow to whip over the Sierra mountaintops and descend on Washoe Valley. When this happens, Sherry and I attempt to “batten down the hatches” around our property. Lawn chairs are put up against the house, away from windows. Garbage cans are placed safely in the garage, and yard supplies are secured in the tool shed.
Here’s the weird part. Sherry and I put on our tough-weather clothes and head outside, our four white Swiss shepherds at our sides. Often, we need to wrap our arms around a tree, or each other, so we don’t get toppled over. Sillier yet, we have been known to sing “God Bless America” at the top of our lungs as our neighbor’s plastic swimming pool flies above us and loose shingles disengage from nearby rooftops.
What’s wrong with us? We have been doing this thing for over 30 years. We’ve never been dealt a serious blow, although our sanity has been questioned by many a neighbor.
The answer rests with the word “exhilaration.” We love the feelings of elation, excitement and happiness. They beat out moderate risk and mockery from timid neighbors every time.
I’ve got to go. Black clouds are looming over Slide Mountain.