Wind Talk

There is an art listening to the wind, though it goes where it wills. trees trap it in place for brief intervals while holding still it is kept at a steadfast pace. just momentarily, before released. In this quick, long second there is nothing heard, no sounds beyond a rustled silence that may go unnoticed except by birds, then a soft and sudden rising whistle in defiance it pushes forward and skips from tree to tree. Newly alive, swishing as it hurries unawares of spring or summer tempests, ignorant of its short now in the autumn blush, hanging on tenaciously to every branch that tests it whispering between the calm and hush looking for an attentive ear to listen. Feel the breeze, inhale and listen, you can sense its coming on the air and if you hesitate or wait to long its is no longer there it remains unseen and is moving on with no plan to return if the message is unheard.