Whirlwind

Every once in awhile, the little kid in me comes out to play.  She was here just a few minutes ago as I walked back to the office from putting a letter in the mailbox one floor below.  As I passed by an exterior door leading to the space between the main building and the east wing, I moved closer and looked through the window to catch a glimpse of the dreary, drippy, fall day.  And there she was!  Watching a whirlwind of leaves in the expanse between the two outside walls.

You know what a whirlwind is, right?  It's a tornado on a small scale.  No fujita rating.  No buildings falling in on themselves.  No pets in trees.  No two-by-fours slicing through a limestone wall.  No cowering in the bathroom for safety.  Just a whirl of wind sweeping along the ground and whipping the leaves in a ring-around-the-rosie dance.

Quick as a wink, the little girl in me was tugging at my shirt tail.  "Come on!  Let's go stand in the tornado!"  So I shoved open the door and walked into the cool air and swirling leaves.  Nothing but a breeze. The whirl of leaves moved in front of me.  Phooey!  And then it happened.  The whirl of wind and dry, orange, crackling leaves came back at me, grabbed my hair and whipped it from the left side of my face to the right side of my face.  My shirt also shifted a bit.  "Wasn't that fun?!?", the girl in me asked.  All she had to do was look at the smile on my face for her answer.