Anemoi

It seems as though I should be writing about the health care plan our government is attempting to institute. However, I find it too daunting a task to condense to fifteen hundred words. The bill is over twenty-eight hundred pages. It is written in such legalese that I sincerely doubt any member of Congress or their staff members have completed such an arduous task; imagine combining three copies of Atlas Shrugged written in the style of Paradise Lost. I’ve decided to tackle something simpler, yet no less perplexing.

I am grateful for the lake I live on. It is not only pleasant and calming to gaze out on, particularly at sunset; but it also provides me with a gauge for the direction of the wind. Here in South Florida, the wind cannot be judged by which way the clouds are moving. There are times when the low lying nimbostrati are going in one direction, while the altocumulus or cirrus are heading in another. Thank goodness for the lake. All I have to do is look to see which way the water going to know where the wind is coming from. This revelation gave me pause. The wind is really quite remarkable when you think about it.

In ancient times, early civilizations denoted the wind as one of the five elements upon which the fundamental powers of anything were based. This elemental form serves a special place for those who practice the occult.

The wind never laughs, but it does wail, moan, and Jimi Hendrix said that it cried Mary. Bob Dylan said the answers were blowin’ in it; The Scorpions confirmed that when they sang of the winds of change being felt in the U.S.S.R. in 1989. We can’t see the wind, but Mocedades said we could touch it (Eres tu) which may be possible since we can feel it.

Tex Ritter said it was wayward, confirming Churchill’s observations of the winds of war at work prior to World War II, which illustrated how an ill wind can blow no good. But it also can bring despair when it’s a picture of health.

A strong wind can blow a gale, bringing destruction in the form a hurricane or blizzard depending on the time of the year. The wind is moody. It can be gentle as a breeze, it can be a breath of fresh air, or be as tempestuous as a…well…a tempest. It can cause a home to be drafty, and a house to be homey when the smells from a kitchen waft throughout.

Just as quick as a gust can come up, a tornado can blow a house down; no wolf needed. If you must have a wolf, check the wind in the willows.

Frank Sinatra sang of a summer wind as mild as a zephyr, yet that very same wind can bring a blast of hot air that’s stifling, very much like those who are full of it. Still, Seals and Crofts said a summer breeze can make one feel fine. Come to think of it, the wind is a paradox.

Francois de la Rochefoucauld, the 17th century French author noted how it blows out candles, yet kindles fire. But Buddha noted it can’t erase our good deeds. Nevertheless, the Antebellum South civilization was gone with it, and still wisdom sails with it.

You can break wind, as well as be long winded. Heaven forbid the two are ever combined. You can’t change the direction of the wind, but if you’re breaking A Mighty Wind, it’s good you do it down from it.

The Bible says if you trouble your own house, you can inherit the wind, but if you inspire others they will rise up on your wind beneath their wings according to Bette Midler.

Socrates would be pleased we still held his notion of humanity’s insignificance in the big scheme of things. The band Kansas reiterating centuries later that we’re all just dust in the wind.

Wind can bring the greatest golfers in the world to their knees, yet a flag waving in it can cause us to stand up and feel a certain pride. A hard enough wind can knock us over, but we can get carried away on it as well; just ask Dorothy and Toto.

For clarification for those who’ve seen Jersey Shore, or been to Seaside Heights or any place where there are amusement rides; the wind can be a cyclone, but not a wild mouse.

The wind can be selective. Convertible owners like to put the top down so they can feel the wind in their hair. Motorcycle riders claim the same thing; this is why some prefer to go helmetless. I’ll check back with you to see if you hold those same sentiments after you kiss a telephone pole like I did. Dogs love to hang out car windows to have the wind in their faces, but if it’s in a humans face, we struggle. Bob Seger would say this is against the wind. Instead, if it’s at our backs, we are filled with optimism.

Forrest Gump claimed to run like it. The Lone Ranger extolled Silver to ride like it. Woody did the same to Bullseye in Toy Story. Maybe just to prove this wind was not exclusive to the cowboy community, Christopher Cross said we all could, not just heroes and their steeds.

Mark Twain said the wind can bring doubt, as demonstrated by the evening weather report. Each night fisherman everywhere check to see how calm the seas will be the following morning to confirm if they should venture out. But as some of you probably know, you don’t need a weatherman to tell which way the wind blows.

I know this entry is shorter than normal; I don’t want you to think I’m just some tired old bag of wind. Besides, if I sit here much longer, I may get a second one, and I’ll never be able to wind this thing down. Did I fool anyone with that last gasp of “wind?”