The wind was vicious it had started in Canada and Alaska. The air had not seen much sunlight it was cold and very dry. It was pushing its way south slicing down through the Rockies and onto the high plains. Its fury was intense it was still just barely above freezing as it made the journey at 30 miles per hour. The air had heated to 33 degrees. The air was cold and dry. It was also super dense so it continued to slide down the high plains at high rate of speed. The wind was cutting off the high plains and into the transitional zone the hill country.

The Sea of Cortez and the Pacific Ocean was warm. The sun had been shining the air was moving to the east rich in moisture it climbed the mountains of Mexico some water had been lost but much of the water vapor remained. The wind was strong shoving it across another border where it encountered a wedge a wedge of cold dry air instead of falling the band of air 5,000 tall was shoved higher into the atmosphere another 2,000 feet taller. Where the two masses met clouds formed.

The framing crew was at work. The front came through like an express train the night before. The shallow dirt had turned the scraped lot into a muddy mess with the rain. Many of them were illegal aliens in “El Norte.” El Norte the land of mucho dinero.  Their jeans and jackets offered little protection against the cutting wind. The house they were building would have the latest features to keep warm but right now it was a collection of wall trusses and ceiling trusses made out of pine delivered to the site. They had to nail it all together and make adjustments according the plans. The two compressors were working providing the compressed air to multiple air guns. The work was cold the boots were heavy with the mud this was cold morning at work. The blast of Pacific moisture had created amounted to Tech Shield in the atmosphere sealing in the cold air keeping the sun out. It was going to be a cold day. Simply put they could not keep warm.

A slender figure trudged down the street his company shirt was covered by a jacket. His jeans offered no protection so he was walking backwards his hands held two levels and a can of spray paint. The wind buffeted the jacket the jeans did not offer any protection. From his home 20 miles away 10 degrees was the difference. He listened to Shake Russell as his truck turned left on Borgfeld road. The paradox of the man’s life he was destroying the land that he loved. He trudged through light mist and cutting wind dealing with cruel reality that the Texas Hill Country for all its scenic beauty was a brutal land. It was colder it was prone to more temperature extremes then San Antonio. There was a reason why only crazy Germans inhabited the land for such a long time. The sparse population was based on geography and climate it was only later that technology would make it really habitable. The intellectual concept was being hammered by his two cold hands and chilly body as he got closer to the uninsulated frame whose exterior had been completed.

His hands had transferred the a fair amount of heat to can of orange spray paint….enough to make it work for a few shots. Every wall stud to be checked for alignment the Pine had expanded and contracted with the weather shift the result was bowed studs. The good news is once in the garage he was out of the cutting wind and the mercury was a couple degrees above freezing. There was much to do that day and this task loomed because their was a push to get it to sheet rock within 2 weeks. He set up the pattern to check for bowed studs. The method was to make sure every stud was checked. The sounds of air guns punctuated he found his first two bowed studs. He was forced to put the very cold spray can in his jacket to be warmed for a few minutes. The can felt like ice as it had dipped below freezing with the last spray. The steel toed boots with mud moved on the concrete slab the hops were to generate some extra body heat. Once again the can’s temp was raised just enough to be used. The wind howled outside the house. Cedar trees bent with another pulse of cutting air came southward. His work continue the hard hat, the spray can the steel toes boots strange for a college grad. The temperature in the house was 38 degrees. Bit by bit section by section the house was checked for bowed studs all 3,000 square feet. The work took an hour. As much he wanted to complain he realized what his pay was. He realized what the illegal aliens were receiving he was out of the blustery wind. He paused for a few minutes the construction trailer was 100 yards away.

The distance was covered in a fast walk. He passed the frame under construction. The guys were cold he could only imagine what the nail guns felt like with each pulse and nail shoved through the pine. He finally got the trailer. The heater was blowing. His boss saw the hands almost purple from the cold. The levels were placed in the backside of the construction trailer the near ice cold can of spray paint was sweating. “Thaw out some I got some punch lists I need you to fax out in a few minutes.” In the trailer as he thawed out the man’s relationship with the hill country was changing. The romanticism was fading. Spending most of his working life outside in it he was seeing its brutality. The 60 acres where he worked was marked by carcasses of deer that had starved to death. Years before hunters bullets would have thinned the herds. Yet the growth was a part of was eliminating the last predation of the white tail deer….man. It was a brutal place of combat between various air masses. The overrunning Pacific moisture was causing the drip and sealing in the cold. The cold air was slicing off the plains. From floods to drought the land was a land of extremes. He was attempted to break it by placing mcmansions on it. With the howling wind, the drizzle, the mud it was almost comical the divergence between the way the land was marketed and the reality. From tech shield, to multi pane windows, attic ventilation all made the large houses mere made possible. If it were not for all these the large houses would have massive CPS bills. The irony was the brutality of the land was tamed by modern technology so more people wanted to live out to see natural beauty. Yeah the land was being tamed….but not without a fight. All it would take was one good ice storm and the electric heat, and the roads that made the development possible would put most of the houses back to a place that German settlers had know