Hi Friends,
From where I’m sitting here and writing this, I’m watching rain move sideways and come down in gray pleats. The wind is washing through the Jeffry pines and white firs, and I can’t help but think about John Muir’s famous passage about climbing a giant Douglas spruce to experience a torrential windstorm—something I would never do, but it has gotten me thinking about the weather and severe weather in general, which can be a source of wonder or terror (or both at once, which the art critics of the 18th and 19th called The Sublime). As I understand it, the sublime is that exhilarating