The clothes on the line blow like flags in the wind and the clouds race by fast - like cars on the highway. It's not a day for loose hats or umbrellas, but a day to tuck my head to my chin and let my hair whip around my face. There is something about these windy days that blow the cobwebs right out of my head. No sooner have the trees begun to sway than I'm out the door in jacket and boots. In ten minutes I can be at the sea, watch the waves and take a lung full of salty air.
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