OctPoWriMo Day 23: Santa Ana Winds
It’s barely seven in the morning and I’ve just gotten out of bed.
The sun has just come up over the horizon
and I’m already sweating what seems like bullets of lead.
I get dressed, walk out the door, and feel the wind on my face.
The weather is brewing something evil
and spewing the devil’s hot breath like a canister of mace.
The mountain gap winds, so dry in their origin,
whip past giving whiplash to those who can still
withstand Southern California.
The Westward winds fan flames so unbelievably high
it feels like standing in front of a heater while dressed in a wool sweater.
Sadly, it seems the warm weather has made all my plants die.