A storm has moved ashore here at our humble little place on the Oregon coast. We say 'storm', yet the sailor would say 'gale' and those of his kind nod in understanding. A proper storm would be stronger.
As I took my morning walk on the docks, bound up in my rain gear and new warm cap, I was blown about as the wind pushed in and out between the boats. This was the biggest weather of the season and I soon became aware of the new sounds filtering in through my protection.
The boats, the rigging, they all make sound, responding to the the wind as it plays with the wires and rope.
They say the rigging 'sings' at 30 knots. Just knowing this puts a smile on my face.