Polar winds plunge over the southeast Catskills, freezing all before them and casting  frosty whiteness about as they continue to bring real winter down to Waghkonk. The  desiccated and sere husks of last season’s Beebalm, Goldenrod and Milkweed, bent by  those gusts, seem to nod in agreement. The peaceful White Pines and the wise  northern Oaks also bow before the all-powerful North Wind - for it rules this time. It is  both King and Queen here and now and all pledge obeisan