The winds of change are blowing in once again. How fickle they can be. It’s an inevitable reoccurring event yet I always seem perplexed it is happening. There is no precision in timing. It can roll in fleetly like thunder or creep in leisurely like the tide. I’m often offended by its brashness when it chooses a bold on set. Subtlety is more my preference in these matters. I must admit in many instances these events turn out to be a radiant metamorphosis that I myself manifested. I mediate on acceptance and dominate the apprehension to elevate into an unfamiliar phenomenal domicile.