Dear Curiosity Journal,

Springtime on the ridgetop requires bracing yourself, physically and emotionally for the wind. If you’ve followed our farm story, you may already know that Rufus and I struggle with the wind more than any other element on the land. Farming through the gusts and gales, which threaten to strip the greenhouses down to skeletons, takes a toll on our mood and mental processing. It’s hard to think straight with the sound of plastic beating against the frame, degrading with every blow from above. Soil, hay, loose hairs, and gritty debris fly into each breath and the relentless currents carry a squall of irked emotions. Rufus heads for the shelter of the valley to boil maple syrup. I turtle my head into my hood as I care for the sheep, and we mostly avoid anything on our to-do list that involves taking on the mighty force of the Wind.