The day before the tail-end of hurricane Hannah slammed into the coast of Maine was a blue and glittering light-filled dream. The wind sighed through the spruces, firs, and pines, and luffed my curtains like sails. For some reason, the approaching storm made me WANT to do some housekeeping.
I think that the late humorist Erma Bombeck would be proud of me. I opened all the windows on the ocean-side of the cottage, stepped aside, and let the wind sweep the floors and furniture clean. After fifteen minutes, I needed only a few brisk strokes of the broom to brush tiny windrows of dust, sand, and bits of leaves and needles out the front door and onto the forest floor.
I love this little cottage for its simplicity and purity. When I am here, I feel as though I am a wind-scoured seashell, both filled and emptied by the timeless cycle of tides and seasons.
Open your windows and pray for wind!