Day 114: A Familiar Friend
The wind has always been part of me. Maybe it's because I was born and raised in Oklahoma, home of the windswept plains where you hardly noticed the wind expect when it wasn't blowing. Or maybe it's something else. Whatever the reason, the wind has always been special.
Where I live currently is the complete opposite from where I was raised. If there is wind, you notice because it is such a rare occurrence. If the wind happens to be blowing you might even stop and watching the tree tops sway or the flags billow.
It may just be me, but the wind finds a home in my heart. There is something about it that calls to me and reminds me of all the places I've been and haven't been. When I feel the gentle touch of a breeze across my cheek, I simply want to break free from the confines of this earth and chase after it. If only I could be as light as a feather and be swept along with the wind.
Any time there is a windy day and I happen to be outside I naturally reach for my hair. I let it down and allow the playful wind a chance to sweep through it, tangling the ends and clouding my vision. To me, the wind feels like freedom and endless possibilities. If only one could soak in the tendrils of the wind and feel the power under ones skin and in ones own heart.
Power, freedom, mystery, the wind possesses all these things and more. A force so strong it can level buildings and stir up great storms yet so delicate it barely moves the stalks of a wild flower. Invisible to the eye, yet felt instantly. It is beautiful and calming, no matter where it is found it brings with it memories of past encounters.
I believe the wind remembers, or at least reminds you. And on it's delicate hands brings with it memories of the past, of windswept childhoods and hair blowing in the breeze. When the wind returns, it brings with it things one thought to be long gone. Memories and unspeakable emotions. It stirs the heart in a way nothing else can.
In stormy gale or gentle breeze, the wind reminds me of home. Of places familiar and forgotten. Of memories beautiful and faded. Of emotions felt and abandoned. The wind brings me back to my beginning and I cannot help but smile when I feel the gentle touch of such a familiar friend.
Until Next Time,
Lillian Merritt
