I did not always like the wind. I grew up when it blew sandy grit into my eyes, my teeth & left a fine coating on my skin. It left me cranky & irritable.
Then one summer I learned that the wind could blow ‘through’ me. I’d been rock hunting in the high desert when I was caught without shelter. What a glorious lesson to discover I didn’t have to be blown over. Now I’ll have to write about it in depth over the weekend. 🙂 Thank you for the inspiration.
An afternoon spent with those not aware of her presence, she wandered around the white-clothed tables until no one noticed exactly when she had disappeared. In the distance, the balloons called to her, Anne, you belong up here.
At the edge of her world, Anne spun around with outstretched arms to signal she had heard them. She felt the wind beneath her bare arms as she pleaded with the balloons, Come back, take me away. Anne threatened the sky, The storm will take me away and I will not care. Her efforts were to no avail and she ached to be close to the clouds.
If not for the heavy velvet garment she wore, the wind would have swept her from the prairie floor.