It was really windy last night. The kind of windy where tree limbs fall off. I love that kind of weather, especially in the fall. It's hard to describe exactly how it makes me feel; I guess wild is the best word. If the Wild Hunt were sweeping around you, and you couldn't see them ('cause it's not Halloween or Walpurgisnacht), I imagine it might feel something like that. Unfettered and insidious, tempting you to follow.
The next day after a fall wind storm is almost like a hangover. There's trash blown everywhere because the bins have all blown over, and tree limbs and twigs all around, and what pretty fall leaves there were have all been ripped from the trees, so the foliage that's left is bare and patchy like a two-day beard. I hope there's some color left up by the apple orchard when we go.