They told me it was windy in Cedar City . . .
I didn't believe them.
I guess really I should say that I didn’t know what windy meant.
I grew up in Star Valley, Wyoming, and I am used to a strong summer afternoon wind. I remember many nights listening to the wind pounding on my parents house, making the windows shake, and more than once the wind blew our roughly made plywood shed on its side until, finally, it just stayed on its side.
But this didn’t prepare me for Cedar City.
The day of ShaNae’s bridals was windy, but not as windy as it could have been or as windy as it often is. She had brought her cousin, who lives near Cedar, with her to the photoshoot and her cousin and I laughed about the “wind.” We assured ShaNae that around here we don’t call this wind. It was a nuisance sure, and we regularly had to wait for pictures until a gust was done, but we laughingly said we should be glad it was only this breeze and nothing worse.
Because wind around here blows down trees. It blows trampolines in between houses to land in the neighbors yard. It tears off shingles, it destroys anything left outside, and it is relentless.
So be grateful, we told ShaNae, that it isn’t worse.
Well, that afternoon it got worse.
Down went a chunk of my fence, down went an even larger chunk of the neighbor’s fence, and down went a large branch off of the tree next door.
So what did I learn from this photoshoot? Don’t tempt the wind in Cedar City.
