My Mom is So Funny, page 4

I woke at 5 AM to a squirt of Canadian Geese staging a flight – there were 17 in formation squawking out of the northeast – young ones have about two months left to build flight muscles for the long trip south. Good stuff, watching from my bed, the backyard trees bent by a strong wind, seeing the geese push against it; I like dramatic climate.

Mom has a huge vocabulary for wind and weather. I always thought she was a weather-witch – some people are just sensitive. Once the sky darkened, the air got thick – nearly green – she shivered, “it needs to rain to break the spell.”

She says, “Red sails at night, sailors’ delight; red sails in morning, sailors take warning,” and, “a ring around the moon means rain will come tomorrow.”

Sunshine and heat melt her, she reads whitecaps on the sea, she has no use for ice and snow; she loves rainbows, who doesn't?

I showed her a picture I took, “see the wind,” I said; her answer, “You can’t see the wind!” But she watches anyway, every day.