I have a more intimate relationship with wind as a bike commuter on the Palouse than I have ever had before, and I find myself pondering this innocuous mosaic above our kitchen cabinets. The rolling hills of the Palouse were formed (and continue to be sculpted) from silt blown in from the prevailing winds out of the west. These same picturesque hills are a challenge for bikers, especially in Pullman, which is hillier than Moscow. Fortunately, I have few of the steeper hills to climb in Pullman - my biggest challenge being up Stadium Way to my office in Cleveland Hall on the WSU Campus.
On my Catalan compass rose, these west winds are known as the Ponent from "setting sun". I bike into them on many or most mornings. Ironically, the Ponent seem stronger to me in the morning and then tend to taper off a bit in the afternoon when I bike east to Moscow. In fact, if I am really unlucky, the winds shift out of the east in the afternoon, and I have a headwind on the way home.
The easterly winds on my Catalan compass rose are called Llevant from "rising sun". In Catalunya, these are moist, gentle winds that blow in from the Mediterranean Sea. Lysa and I spent many hot and humid afternoons on the beach when we lived in Catalunya, and I can still feel the welcome cool breeze off the sea if I close my eyes and let my mind wander...
Last week, we had strong easterly winds. The Llevant practically blew me into Pullman, and I sailed to my office in less than 30 minutes. I was a flash of blue, black and green - an aluminum, rubber and spandex marvel roaring down the Chipman Trail. But instead of ushering in a refreshing Mediterranean-like spring rain, the Llevant dumped several inches of snow onto the Palouse. The snow melted quickly, and I was able to bike again into Pullman for my Friday morning class. Today, Easter Sunday, is warm and overcast. Perhaps spring is here to stay.
