Howling Winds

BENEATH THE SPIN • ERIC L. WATTREE Howling Winds As I watched my son, dapper as they come, walk down our walkway and into manhood, what I remember most is the rushing wind. I'd seen such winds before, but never like this--my old foe was pulling up trees by the roots. So I watched, but I watched alone. As the winds raged on and the mighty palms bowed, a single leaf from our Winter bare Ficus Tree held tough against the ferocious storm; It fought valiantly against the angry gale, as though hanging on just to witness the changing of the guard. So I stood, but I stood alone. Like that solitary leaf, all my life I've fought the ferocious winds, and now they've returned, this mighty foe, poised to seize the hopes and dreams of my only son. So I cringed, but I cringed alone. But then, posterity glanced back and squared its shoulders, beat back hopelessness as it trudged through fields of ivy, then spread its wings and rode those howling winds over yonder mountaintop... So I wept, but I wept with a crowd. God Bless America. Eric L. Wattree