The fall wind: A promise of change rides on the back of the wind in the early afternoon. The strength surprises me as I feel the wind press into my back. There is a bite to the wind that makes it strong and ominous. I’m walking once again towards my apartment, but not with the urgency the wind is telling me I need. Huge dark clouds gather behind the mountains, peeking around the massive rocks in the distance. A storm is coming, and the wind is warning me of the impending fury yet to be unleashed. It coaxes me to move faster, to seek the shelter I am not far from. I do not heed its call and am caught unaware by the sudden downpour of rain that pounds on my head. The wind blows across my face, moving the hair from my eyes and helping me to quickly get inside. It moves me in the direction I need to go and I allow it. I seem to fly up the stairs, knowing with full confidence the wind has made this trip many times before. It protects me from the hard drops of rain that sting my arms, neck and face. The wind spouts out little bursts of air that force the rain into separate directions away from me.
Once I am safe inside my dwelling I watch the rain battle the wind. I view a constant scene of magical dances illuminated by the thunder and lightning outside. Sometimes the wind beats the rain. Sometimes the rain beats the wind. I step out onto the balcony, protected from the roof that hangs over just enough to allow me to watch the amazing display. The elements are at war and I am rooting for the wind to be the champion. I watch as the rain is tossed in different directions with a fury I have never seen. They move in sync, one chasing the other. For a moment I am distracted by a woman who has lost her papers in the storm. She runs around trying to catch them all before they go over the fence never to be seen again. She is an innocent bystander caught in a covert war between wind and rain.
The wind notices her and circles the papers in one area for her to pick up. I smile at this gentle approach in the midst of battle. But the rain is not to be distracted. It takes advantage of the preoccupied wind and pounds down even harder. The rain turns into hail and the fury I was surprised at before is nothing compared to the fury I witness now. The wind is crushed and for a long while all I hear is hail pounding on the railing I have gripped with white knuckles. I scan the area looking, hoping, for any sign of the wind confident it has not been defeated. But there is only the unrelenting power of the hail pounding on the ground, sounding like a standing ovation from the war it has just won.
A few minutes later the ovation dies down, and the hail is complete. There is nothing but silence. I am saddened by the defeat of the wind. I hang my head, thinking I will no longer enjoy the company of such a constant friend when suddenly, softly, I feel a faint breeze on my cheek. My hopes are rejuvenated as I smile brightly into the sky. The wind has not been defeated; it has been there all along. And it will continue to be so forever and ever.
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