Wind (August 2010)

From August 3, 2010

Ever since I was a little girl I have been fascinated by the wind.  I love the feel of the movement of air across my skin.  When I was little, it was as if I had been caught in an invisible current that swirled around me and could carry me away at any moment.

When I lived in Yakima, my father built me a wooden bi-plane and attached a long cord to it and showed me how I could use centrifugal force to make the plane fly.  I stood in the center of my circle and flew that airplane for many hours that summer.  I loved going out in the evening when the air was cooler but the breezes were still warm.  I especially loved the warm winds.

That wonderful sensation of air movement has never left me.  Much to the consternation of my kids, I often leave the windows open during storms just so I can stand in the billowing curtains and feel the wind.  I am also the one who, while driving, has total control over the car windows, and in the summer, those windows are almost always down.

At Yellowstone National Park

I have sometimes wondered what it is about the wind that has me so obsessed.  Perhaps it is the feeling of freedom – being lifted and carried away with the wind, to ultimately and soundlessly float through the air high above the worries of the world.  This thought is not far from the dream to fly in a glider, soaring on the air currents for as long as I can.

Air sustains life. It's movements can create lift and elevation, sometimes dangerously.  I am not a reckless person and would never subject myself to the violence of a tornado or hurricane, but the feeling of moving air gives me a sense of awareness that other elements cannot.  So for whatever psychological reason behind the fascination, I'm in it for good.  It has always been with me, and likely always will.