As as little girl of 4, I went down to the garage-basement of our San Francisco house. I'd lay down on the cement floor and listen to the wind blow through the garage. It whistled and pounded at the garage front and whooshed out the back door. Occasionally wind whisked leaves and small pebbles along with its heavy breath and they would tumble against the door with dry crackles and a rattle. I felt like a giant was blowing right at me in the garage.
Today a large storm is blowing through Northern California. I woke up to the trees being whipped around my bedroom window. The giant's breath was all around and bending everything to it's will. I like it! I once walked into a store and it had a quote painted on it's wall about wind. I don't recall the exact wording. And, I apologize to all those who have real experience with hurricanes, this is not to make light of your losses. But, this paraphrase so expresses how I feel about wind:
When the hurricane wind blows, stand on a hilltop and get rockstar hair