Blowing in the Wind
Wind
What I call a windy day, the hawk
regards as a carnival ride.
While she inscribes great swooping arcs
across the sky, I’m just trying
to control my hair.
She can’t possibly be hunting.
Nothing here is measured or practical.
She is playing – or maybe dancing,
a ballerina lifted and tossed
by the strong arms of the air.
Who wouldn’t be jealous?
Not just of her muscular grace,
but also the way she trusts so completely
in what sustains her, the joy she finds
in being carried away
by what she cannot hope to control.
- Lynn Ungar
Tuesday morning - another windy day, with gusts up to 50 kilometres per hour. The sun is shining; I can see by the smiles on the faces I meet that I am not the only one enjoying this windy day.
Yesterday the sky was ominous. I watched the last leaves blow off the oak tree in the backyard. I did not dry my hair before heading out with Tucker, knowing it would be blown all over the place.
We have had several wind warnings recently, cancelling ferries, uprooting trees, and crushing cars. I am worried one of the large trees on our island property may break off across the road, or worse, on the roof of our house. I have watched the hummingbirds gripping tightly to outdoor lights strung across our balcony. A tornado touched down near the University of British Columbia. Tornadoes are a rarity here along the west coast. Wind can be powerful and deadly, a force of nature to be feared.
And yet, as Lynn Ungar’s words evoke, the wind also brings joy. This morning, Tucker sniffed his way along the path as we walked by the fishing boats anchored at the end of our road. The wind caught in the masts, a mournful howling filled the air. The sound was oddly comforting, maybe because the boats are not out at sea battling the waves. Overhead, two eagles soared through the sky, dipping in and out of the thermals. Like Ungar’s hawk, they were not hunting, and her description of her hawk playing or dancing, lifted and tossed by the strong arms of the air, also spoke to the joy of these eagles.
The wind is one of my favourites of Mother Nature’s elements. At Ageless Possibilities, I write about five things I need in life. One of those is sounds that fill my heart, and that includes wind, especially the sound of approaching wind. A wind that sometimes sweeps by in a gentle wave, and at other times grows to a roar as it draws near, bending the trees by the pond.
The brilliant Maria Popova wrote about the colours of the wind on her website The Marginalian (formerly Brain Pickings). She wrote about a bookmaking workshop author Anne Herbauts was leading. A little boy asked Herbauts whether she, as an artist, could tell him what color the wind was. Touched by the boy’s curiosity, Herbauts offered her answer in the book, What Color is the Wind?
Every piece of nature gives the boy a different answer — to the bee, the wind is the warm colour of the sun; the old dog, who perceives the world through smell, experiences it as “pink, flowery, pale white”; to the wolf, it smells of the forest; for the mountain, the wind is a bird; and for the window, it is the colour of time.
I think of this journey rowing north. Most days, I am happy to drift aimlessly on a gentle breeze. Increasingly, I welcome the wind swirling around me, giving me that extra push needed as I set my course.
Interestingly, while I enjoy the wind, research suggests that wind impacts negative moods but has little effect on positive moods. In 2008, a German study discovered that increased wind power is more likely to make people feel irritable, jittery, or distressed. And a US study in 2015 found that higher wind speeds were associated with increased levels of depression. There are also some suggestions that wind makes us unhappy because of how barometric pressure affects us physically. Studies have shown that changes in barometric pressure connected to strong winds can cause headaches, joint pain, fatigue, and irritability. Scientists think this has something to do with the way our joints and blood vessels shrink and swell as the barometric pressure changes. And how we feel physically can impact how we feel mentally.
The only winds I struggle with are relentless, heavy gales. I love the gentle tropical breezes of the Hawaiian Islands. But while Newfoundland is one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I have ever visited, I think the constant ocean winds would drive me mad.
Which of Mother Nature’s elements tug at your heart? Sun? Rain? Snow? Crisp fall days? Humid heat? Wind? I am guessing that your list is not limited to one!
I discovered Lynn Unger’s poetry in March 2020 when her poem Pandemic went viral. Ungar is a Unitarian minister and I used to follow her blog, Wombat and Dingbat, providing insights from her two Australian shepherds. She has published two books of poetry which you can purchase on her website.