Spring in the San Luis Valley

One word describes it: WIND.
The demon wind, the devil wind, the deadly wind. It rattles your teeth, sucks out your breath, your will to live and makes the house shriek and moan like a live thing in the throws of death, one rusty nail at a time. It's enough to make you mental, or worse, wax nostalgic about winter painting when the temps hardly got above 0 for weeks at a time.
May came in like a dove, but I was in Taos, then Durango, then Buena Vista and the last two weeks have been screamers. Now the kids are out of school and any sense of a work schedule went out with the Memorial Day weekend garbage. So it is a small consolation when I wake up to gale force wind and know - I probably couldn't go out anyway.

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