Here's another poem from Stevenson that seems to fit right into set of emotions that strong winds raise.
The wind blew shrill and smart
THE wind blew shrill and smart,
And the wind awoke my heart
Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea,
To hear the cordage moan
And the straining timbers groan,
And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee.
O sailor of the fleet,
It is time to stir the feet!
It's time to man the dingy and to row!
It's lay your hand in mine
And it's empty down the wine,
And it's drain a health to death before we go!
To death, my lads, we sail;
And it's death that blows the gale
And death that holds the tiller as we ride.
For he's the king of all
In the tempest and the squall,
And the ruler of the Ocean wild and wide!
Certainly if you're at sea, a high wind can be pretty tricky to ride out. But it seems that on land we definitely respond to wind too. One study in Alberta, for example, linked increased incidence of migraines with Chinook winds. And certainly anecdotal evidence suggests that people feel on edge during periods of strong winds. One of the things I found extraordinary as a parent volunteering in my kids' classes was the general belief among teachers that an approaching storm provoked restlessness among the children. It wasn't a belief current in Southern California when I was small, but then the climate there is a whole different from that here.
This morning the winds have dropped, and the sun is out. Perhaps we're headed for better weather. Let us hope that the last few days of good economic news means that the financial "perfect storm" (given as an excuse by Quebec's pension fund manager this week for a loss of 26 per cent last year) is abating too.