Sunday, October 10, 2010


the winds whips through our yard this time of year- and i love it.  wind has always been my favorite element.  there are so many types- the warm ocean breeze that kissed salt on your eyelids so that you sleep better, the stiff gust that sucks your breath out of your mouth and turns it to ice, the sideways sandy bursts of horizontal wind that pushes tumbleweeds into wire fences and pins them there for months.

the wind that gushes through our place is powerful with its force and its noise.  our two-sister white birch tree sits on the northwest corner of our lot and it's long tendrils reach almost to the ground.  the wind comes barreling at us from somewhere near the islands to push and pull at her long branches like waves in mermaid hair.  right now i can hear the rush of leaves trembling at the end of tree limbs.  the swoosh has a rhythm that comforts me with its chaos.

standing in the wind i enjoy the feeling of being handled by nature.  i like when my hair gets tossed in ways that make me blind to the world.  i like the way my skin tingles with blood rushing to the surface like it wants to suck up the fresh green oxygen swirling around me.  i like the way my clothes hug me in fear on one side and reach out to escape on the other.  i like that feeling of being handled by nature.

the wind rips limbs off of the trees and sends them into the neighbor's yard.  the toys get tumbled through the lawn into the tall weeds along the fence line.  the gutter drains tilt away from the corners of our house to let the rain run straight down.  everything shifts and moves.  there is no stillness.  there is no silence.  change. change. change.

the wind shakes everything up, giving all its got in short bursts and prolonged huffs until the weak and the dying have been carried away, leaving the strongest parts there to endure the winter- only then to return in spring to cleanse out any parts that have withered away in the cold night. 

the wind is the broom of nature- whisking out the dust, the dead moths, the hairballs, forgotten scraps of once important notes  that has accumulated into the corners of our lives.

it's time to go stand out in that cleansing, frenzy of wind.  wrap up in a blanket if you must- but don't be afraid of what she will whisk away from you.  you don't need it anymore.  it really is just weighing you down.

No comments:

Post a Comment