Somewhere Between Windstorms And Merry-Go-Rounds

The term “batten down the hatches” never seemed so right to this land-lubber as right now, the wind gusts powerful enough to bend the heritage tree in the back yard. Ah, but I’m more excited than scared, the skin on my arms tingling and a giggle popping out when a branch hit’s the side of the house. And stranger still, I've got this crazy desire to stand in the back yard and watch it happen. To be in the middle of it. To experience the power up close and personal.

I used to live in the country back home, and the twenty-minute drive on the paved secondary road between my home and my job had been exactly long enough to leave one behind and gear up (or down) for the other. In the middle was a long looping S curve, and for whatever reason, I started driving bits and pieces of it with my eyes closed. Naturally, the duration of keeping my eyes closed kept lengthening until one day I drove the whole thing completely by the sound of my tires on the asphalt and the slow tilt of my SUV. (Before you ask, yes, I always checked the entire S for oncoming traffic before closing my eyes.)

Why did I do it? Well, it wasn't completely to be reckless. I did it because it invigorated me. Energized me. Made be feel, even for a little while, that I was in another world—one I controlled. Kind of like a kid standing in the middle of a spinning merry-go-round with their head tipped back and their arms extended. Or standing outside in a windstorm.

Ah, the merry-go-round. Do you remember holding on for dear life, laughing yourself silly as the world blurred? Brave kids on the outer edge tried to stand but were quickly knocked off their feet, heads smacking into each other, the floor, the metal bars. Smaller kids quickly swept to the outside by the force of inertia clung to bars until they could hold on no more and then flung into the stratosphere. The very unlucky kid was crushed underneath it. And some stood in the middle of it all, God-like in their mini universe. Oh the carnage! Oh the good times.

Recently I found a road similar to the long looping S curve of my past... with one difference: This one’s maximum speed is faster by twenty clicks an hour.

I’m not advocating driving dangerously by any means—I most certainly am not. I’m not even advocating standing outside in a windstorm. But sometimes—just sometimes—you want to be that kid on the merry-go-round. You want to feel alive.