They call the winds . . .

I remember while in Iraq the winds would blow and the sand too but yesterday here was something that made the wild winds of west Texas looks like a summer breeze. The winds beat against the sides of the building but I really had no idea of the fury until I stepped out to walk to dinner last night.

Since the exit to our building faces south and the winds were from the North it really did not hit me until the bottom of the stairs. As I stepped out the wind hit me, the sand hitting hard against my face. It felt like little needles sticking me. I turned out of the sand to face the opposite direction only to find that the wind was almost lifting me in flight. 

After walking slowly to the chow hall, we get in out of the weather and  I begin to speak, only to find the crunchy residue of the sand lining the inside of my mouth. Yuck, I wonder how much of this stuff is stuck in my lungs. We grab our trays and find a seat.  The chow hall that is closest to us is a great big tent.  We could hear the winds whipping the tent flaps and canvas. Numerous times during our meal I just knew the tent was coming down. The wind would lift it about 6 inches and just almost clear the support poles. Wow what a day. .

This morning the tent was still standing and the temperature 20 degrees cooler to start the day. Winter is still coming and it is riding the wind to get here. . . . .