Wind
It can only be heard or felt.
Seldom seen and even then only indirectly.
It has many guises, sometimes fierce,
other time gentle.
It can appear contrary as it makes its
circumnavigating voyage about the earth.
Like a good play it is made up of many characters.
Sometimes it is fierce and strong,
challenging all-comers to try and contain it.
The express train loud rustling of the
leaves in the trees announce its attempt
to de-clothe them.
The trees bend and wave in the height
of the maelstrom it creates.
Sometimes it is destructive.
It picks up objects and throws them
around as if in some sort of childish tantrum.
Nothing, be it natural or man-made can withstand it.
Trees are uprooted or great boughs ripped off
as if they were cocktail sticks.
Water is whipped up into a storming charge
of white horses that only ends when they
crash into the land.
A doomed cavalry charge trying to
storm the guns of the beach and its sea defences.
Then, almost as if in a fit of pique, the wind
scourges great handfuls of pebbles from the shore
and flings them at the houses inland.
Cars are overturned like toys that have been
abandoned by some giant infant who has
found something more interesting to do.
House roofs are pealed back as if by a
giant hand opening a tin of sardines for their tea.
Lampposts bend double as if acknowledging a King
Sometimes it simply teases us.
It brushes across our cheek and
then runs away to hide as we
turn to try and find it.
Look and it is gone.
Other times it collects snippets of sounds
and whispers them into our ears.
A lawnmower, bells, a laugh, a few teasing
words from an out-of-context conversation,
a few bars of music.
As soon as we turn our heads
to determine the source this will-o-the-wisp
has gone, departed, hiding once more from us.
Sometimes it reveals itself to our eyes.
It causes a flower to flutter or
clothes to dance on a washing line.
Fields of wheat display waves like a
sheet being unfurled onto a bed.
As it moves across water it causes
ripples to dance to give its position away.
Apparently careless and carefree it
ducks and dives across the water,
appearing to revel in the patterns it can make.
Which leads me to ask this.
Is it wind or breath?
A friend of mind setup a weekly-ish Creative Challenge on Facebook to help us through Covid-19 Lockdown 3.0 here in the UK.
He sets the subject and then we have to create in response to that. So expect a few more
This time the prompt was just the single word “wind” and this was my response.
