revrannulf

being myself the best way I can

The Wind in March

The roar outside the walls of our home is rising in falling in pitch and intensity.

I hear the creakings and groanings of 60 year old beams as they try to accomodate the stress of recklessly being pushed northwest.

The vagrant rush of air due to changing pressure in the atmosphere might well make Mary Poppins think twice prior to opening her umbrella.

Though the air is clear and the sky is blue, the brute force of the wind is an unmistakeable assault on those who would soak in the warmth of the sun.

I wonder from whence it has come and ponder where it might go.  Who breathed this air yesterday and what fires will it fan tomorrow?

The wind gives me pause, and I wonder… Am I am a leaf in a breeze of spirit?  Is the holy ruach still trying to assist me to let go of the anchor.

I know the days will come when my heart will rise and demand to ride the wind.  The only question in my mind is what appearance that ride will take.

Given my penchant for adventure, windy days in a windy city often lead me to long for a zipline ride through a rain forest shouting, “wheeeeeeee” with all my adrenaline driven power.

Perhaps I’ll seek to harness the wind and fly a kite.  I could be master of the situation and seek to make my kite serve the whims of my mastery while riding the maelstrom of rushing air.

Yet again, I might try to ride a bicycle against the wind in order to test my mettle and prove my disdain for the forces of nature.  How far might I go..?  I wonder.

The choices may be mine, but the wind blows where it will.  Can I follow?  Will I?

Ask me tomorrow.

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