wind – Julie Fredrickson

We have been in the middle of a massive windstorm since some time late last night in South west Montana.

We are lucky in Gallatin Valley too. Further northwest communities like Glacier and high country passes can expect white out blizzards.

Meanwhile, here outside Bozeman, we have the unnerving, unsettling, intermittent howl of unexpected and inconsistent gusts of wind. And they are strong.

Just about 50 miles east of us a sheriff pulled over to help a tipped over semi on I-90 only to have another truck tip onto his car. Thankfully everyone is OK.

The winds have been roaring across the valley in the bright blue high-altitude daylight. Blinding and deafening in equal measure. You almost pray for the clouds to come in. Which they do, quickly and with little warning before they are swept away.

All morning it has been bright and loud and my animal hindbrain hated it. It reminds me of the conditions before the prairie fire that burned 3000 homes to the ground in Boulder Colorado. The fear of fire in dry landscapes has become a permanent feature of the west.

Our snowpack is poor this year in the Rockies, so it’s a whistling screeching horror racing through patches of bare brown grasses. Only the mountains serve as wind breakers. It makes you feel exposed as barren aspens and cottonwoods trees do little to slow the wind down.

We aren’t quite in the main area of concern and yet our winds are gusting past 40mph

I have on noise canceling headphones to cut down on the howl to focus. Your mind can’t train itself to adapt to this type of wind as white noise. The gusts are too unpredictable.

We secured what we could, but items are flying around with ease. Our chickens haven’t left their hen house all day. It’s unsettling.

We’ve done our preparations. This afternoon we gassed up and got groceries. Dishes are washed and the laundry is done. I wish I was in a little less pain, as a shower is part of my usual storm routine but I’ve been in a migraine pattern. At least the clouds are coming in to cut down on the light.

Cars with extra gas cans and spare tires

We aren’t the only ones thinking ahead. When we got gas in town, the van next to us had multiple cans to fill. A wise precaution. If you are up north stay safe and be prepared. If you don’t need to travel consider staying put. There is no reason to put yourself in harm’s way. If it’s ripping the lights off barns, just think might else it might do.

Security cameras are on but a flood light got ripped clear off

The call to prayer echoed out as I stood underneath one of many loudspeaker towers bristling with surveillance equipment.

Strong winds buffeted cell equipment and 360 degree video eyeball cameras as the firm melodic voice of the muezzin recited out the first words of the Adhan.

“Allahu akbar”

I wonder how many cameras were scanning my face as I watched the speaker quiver from the wind and snow as I shivered waiting for the black Mercedes driving me to Istanbul went through giant X-Ray machine.

I briefly let my eyes scan the area to see if this prayer would delay my transit across the Turkish border. I was in no-man’s land between Greece and Turkey and I felt alone. I prayed. God is the greatest.

I saw no one rushing to prayer rooms or unrolling prayer mats. Maybe others were praying as I did. Silently inside the privacy of their own mind. The siren indicated the giant car X-ray was on.

A kind of Doppler effect buffered the prayers from each tower over the sound of alarm, layering prayer and warning as sound rose and fell over my head.

I switched on my Bose noise canceling headphones and closed my eyes. I went to wait out the cold in the duty free but the smell of the perfumes made me nauseous. I went to the bathroom feeling ill. I finally found the prayer rooms. I was still the only one there.

I found the prayer rooms next to the bathrooms at the Duty Free shops inside.

This was my second time driving to Istanbul through the rolling coastal mountains of the Balkans into Greece. I had not expected this kind of life for myself but I seek to be exploring far reaches in this life and little of it makes sense. I experience reality as closely as I can.

To be a traveler to the crossroads of the great empires is a privilege for princesses not a lowly citizen but here I am. An America woman with a passport has power even a Venetian trader did not.

How long that lasts I can’t really say. Even in the panopticon of the crossing I felt safe but the world is in a strange place. Still for now I was welcomed. Constantinople welcomes all travelers.

Three hours later the open roads of Turkish farmland slowed to potholes and frantic taxis gummed up by city traffic. Istanbul drivers are terrifying. Each near miss I found myself saying God is great. Praying that I would make it to my hotel. That feeling would last through every taxi ride I took.