The Wind

The wind stretched the great sails testing the new stitching; causing the mast to bend and groan.  The Conrad climbed wave after wave, as it crawled nearer to home.  Eliza Camdren emerged from the steps of the hold, hanging on to the rail with one hand, his bottle with the other.1

"You slept well I take it Mr. Camdren."  The Captain said standing firm to the wheel.2

"Quite so, Capt'n.  With the `elp of my here po'son."3

The man swaggered a little, unsure whether it was him or the ship.4

"What is she today, friend or foe?"5

"She's our friend today, Mr. Camdren.  She's pushing us at twenty-one knots.  We should be home to see the sun set on the mountains."6

"After what she did to us las' night, Capt'n, I think we're lucky to be `float."7

"Ay Sir.  She can be a beast some days; other days she can be a lamb.  Nonetheless My dear fellow, she's quite a lady."8

The above excerpt taken from The Flying Ship Conrad by the fictitious John F. Wineskin, brought to mind something that we never really notice until its not around.  At least in this part of the country.  The wind is often cursed more than not, yet it also can become a great friend at times.  If we are open to it.9

The wind often is a symbol of change, as seen in the changing of the seasons.  In Spring it carries seeds, spores, and pollen, much to the dismay of many.  It adds the exhilaration to the storms, carrying the rain great distances before reaching us.  In its softest moments, it brings us the scents and smells of a new part of nature.  Proof that the Earth is always rebuilding, and renewing . . . a show of true persistence.10

The winds of Autumn give life to the leaves as they break free from their branches, dancing in the streets, chasing after cars, and congregating in corners and along fences.11

I've had leaves scoot along beside me, like small children unable to walk without skipping.  Yet on the barren deserts of Africa, or the frigid tundra of Alaska, the wind gives a feeling of desolation; as if every living creature has gone underground to avoid it.12

Bring the wind out of the North and it will steal through bundles of clothing and chill you to the bone.  While in your house, it will whistle and roar to remind you how safe and secure you are inside.13

What I notice most is the sounds created by it.  The trees will always tell you when its about.  Several years ago on a hunting trip in the mountains, we heard the wind rushing through the tall pines in the valley miles away.  It would take several minutes for it to reach the camp giving us time to reinforce the tents.  When it hit, the cold penetrated everything, buffeting the tent, rattling the stove pipe.  What followed was a long cold winter night.14

Even without the trees, there is a sound that is not only heard, but also felt.  The next time you step out into the wind, stop and listen to her voice.  Close your eyes, and open your mind.  You'll hear more than what the ears tell you, and sense more than what your skin feels.  Take a deep breath, slowly, and test what you smell.15

She'll prod you, and beckon you to be on your way.  Then she'll gently caress you, hoping you won't go.  Like a small still voice in the mind, she has a message for you . . . if you are open to it.16

"Yes, Capt'n.  She is quite a lady.  She has to be, when you consider who her Creator is."17

But . . . how do you perceive her, friend or foe?18