Disclaimer: You might want to mute the video before you start it — or perhaps, like me, you love the sound of wind (even if it’s slightly magnified by an iPhone microphone).
The wind was so loud that day, Chris and I couldn’t hear each other talk as we walked into the wind. That was some tough walking, haha.
Walking back to the car, I think I could have flown. So fun.
A wonderful poem by Amy Lowell.
The Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts — but he’s gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
More of Amy Lowell’s poetry can be found in Google Books.
