“Say, Pooh, if I were you I’d think about skedaddlin’s out of here. It’s Windsday, see?”
I have been occasionally known to complain that the weather in California is too….boring. I mean, who wouldn’t get tired of day after day of blue sky and sunshine? I need a little variety in my atmosphere. Well, in Patagonia, that’s not a problem! In Torres del Paine the daily weather forecast usually called for sun, rain, clouds, blue sky, fog, and variable winds with gusts and a chance of snow, hail, and/or sleet. (The one thing they don’t have is thunderstorms!)
The 6th day of our Patagonia trip was not at all pleasant weather-wise, but it was certainly very memorable, which is what it’s all about for me these days. The wind started howling around midnight, like a pack of Patagonian demons screaming down from the rocky heights, vibrating the thick fabric covering our geodesic domes, and rattling and banging anything not firmly attached to the planet. The screeches and shrieks were unearthly, as if the flying saucer cloud formations yesterday afternoon had delivered a load of Alien Demons out onto the land. The howls were purely Patagonian: raw and primordial, earthly and unadulterated.
