Well, it's blowin' again. Comin' up on two month, or six weeks and countin', anyway. There are days when it's not really blowin', but it's still movin' and ya know it ain't done; almost as if all the air is just pausin', size up the situation, see what else it wants to do 'fore it let's summer go to work. It is a "wonder full" process, ' cause ya know all the elements are doin' exactly what they have to, or what they're supposed to, all things considered, and somehow there's a story in it for us. I mean, think of all the characters; sun, moon, earth, motion and orbits, oceans and temperatures, seasons of the north, seasons of the south, the freezin' on one hand, the growin' on the other, the water talkin' to the sun, gettin' up and movin' with the air, or fallin' on the earth. Unbelievable! Then, a course there's us drivin' around in our "auto mobiles", stinkin' it up, pretendin' none of that matters, "'cause we have all-wheel drive and power windows!" sometimes fact, sometimes fancy.
Personally, I'd rather listen to the wind; instinctively, some part of me knows this is good story, and that's a gift I should not take lightly, even, if I gotta let go, some of my sand bags, to get with it. I could say, "ya, but, grampa, every year, it's the same story!". Seems to me, grampa might say, "ya, 'cause some stories are so full of wisdom and we can be so full of ourselves, it can take a lifetime, even begin, to understand."