My father passed in the month of October.
We lived out in the country. His property and mine were side by side. And the month of November following his death had some windy and chilly days.
One day I walked down past his empty house.
In to the woods.
I am a believer in spirit. I just know that we are not alone. I don’t like to call them ghosts. I believe in angels and spirit.
I used to have vivid day dreams about dad coming to me in a dream or a vision of some kind.
So I would take myself to where I thought he might be.
I would imagine him and what he might say. He didn’t get to say goodbye. So I always thought maybe he wanted to. Or maybe it was more for us that I hoped for that goodbye.
This grey and windy day I went to the woods. It was cold. There were no leaves in the trees. And all of the ones on the ground were already fast turning back in to the earth if they were scattered thinly. Or remained in piles along the paths. Waiting for snow to cover them.
It was one of those odd windy days. The branches closer to the ground weren’t moving much. But the tree tops were swaying. Branches up high were creaking. It was one of those days that despite the greyness it felt bright. It was exhilarating.
I would walk. Then stop. The drama in me truly expecting something to appear. Something to be said.
I walked down to look over the water from one side of a little cliff. Then I wound along the path to take me down to the water. Where so many times we had gone to target shoot. Or fish. Or ride four wheelers. Or run to and run back. Then I meandered back up to the woods atop the water.
Then it happened.
The wind roared above me like nothing I have ever heard before.
It wasn’t a whistling wind.
It was a creaky wind.
It full out roared.
As if the heavens themselves opened up and roared out all of the noise of the choirs combined. But it wasn’t musical. It was loud. It was right over my head. It was power. It was demanding and stunning. And it was so very brief.
It got my attention.
And that was it.
I could go back to where I was standing at the moment it happened. I could look up through those trees and let you know what the sky looked like.
But I can never fully describe that roar to you.
I don’t know that it was supposed to say anything to me.
Maybe just get my attention.
I can’t get through a November without thinking of that roar in the woods.