The Wind: A Four Part Series -- Part I

"Where did the wind learn how to fly?" - Connor Brennan, 3 years old.

The winter wind: Like an unseen monster it rages in full fury. Ducking behind gated corners it waits for me to walk by, and then unleashes its anger in short bursts of battered metal on cinder block walls. Fiercely it blows across the already darkened parking lot and rips through my hair as I sprint to my car. It dances around me, encircling me in a knotted mess of leaves and paper before piercing me to the very bone with its icy breath. I race to my car, open the door, jump inside and slam the door shut with the help of the winds’ hefty strength. I shiver as the wind becomes angrier with me, frustrated at my desire to be safe and warm and no longer wanting to play its chilling game. The safety of my car does not diminish the wind’s fury. It rips at the tires, pounds against the door, and otherwise makes my drive home more difficult.

A short distance later the wind seems to cease its fiery approach to devour me. I enjoy a pleasant ride home until I pull into the parking lot. The wind is there waiting for me. It seems to know the exact moment I will climb out of my car and run to my front door to the warmth inside. The wind taunts me with its fruitless blows, making me think it is safe for the moment and that I might be able to beat the wind to my front door. I am sadly mistaken when I open the door and take my first step out into the cold. All is still, causing my hopes to soar, but then a sound like a rushing waterfall surges up behind me and sends shivers down my spine. I know what that sound is, and my heart beats faster. I make a break for my front door, thoroughly convinced I can beat the wind and make it safely home. Out of nowhere I am slapped in the face by an icy gust that takes my breath away and I am momentarily frozen. I fumble a bit as I try to catch my breath and keep my eyes from going blurry. My keys drop from my hand at the unexpected blow and I feel frightened. I stumble around the night trying to locate my keys as the wind does its best to keep me from coming closer to my apartment. When I find them, I once again race to a sheltered corner where the wind cannot touch me. I grin from my hiding place, fully aware of the wind’s ever growing wrath.

For a moment the wind can’t find me and I am still. I keep thinking if I move it will locate me and release any reserved power it seems to possess. When the wind moves on I escape, running at full speed up the stairs and toward the door. I am only steps away when the wind catches up. It tears at my face, my eyes, my bones. It comes at me from every side as if playing a game of tag where everyone is “it” and I am the only one who has yet to be touched. Mere feet in front of my door I have been beaten, defeated by the wind who started the game some 20 miles back and yet somehow always wins. I relent and allow the wind to have its victory. I nod my head in agreement of the victory as the wind howls cruelly through the night.