Page:Big Sur (1963).djvu/91

 3em

the stars had not come out at all, not even for one minute on any night, it was the foggy season, except the very last night when I was getting ready to leave—Now the stars were out every night, the sun shone considerably longer but a sinister wind accompanied the Autumn in Big Sur: it seemed like the whole Pacific Ocean was blowing with all its might right into Raton Canyon and also over the high gap from another end causing all the trees to shudder as the big groaning howl came newsing and noising from down-canyon, when it hit there was raised a roar of noise I didnt like—It seemed ill omened to me somewhere—It was much better to have fog and silence and quiet trees—Now the whole canyon by one blast could be led screaming and waving in all directions in such a confused mass that even the fellows with me were a little surprised to see it—It was too big a wind for such a little canyon.

This development also prevented the constant hearing of the reassuring creek.

One good thing was that when jet planes broke the sound barrier overhead the wind dispersed the clap of empty thunder they caused, because during the foggy season the noise would come down into the canyon, concentrate there, and rock the house like an explosion making me think the first time (alone) that somebody’d set off a blast of dynamite nearby.

While I woke up groaning and sick there was plenty of wine right there to start me off with the hounds of hair, so okay, but Monsanto had retired early and typ- 83