Mariah

Is the wind alive? That’s what the Choctaw believed. The Apache called it, apocryphally, “the breath of the world.” To them, the wind is the trickster you never see, a joker on the plain of life. What’s always arriving and always leaving? What’s as old as the world, yet forever current? Ever present and tireless, it seldom sleeps, holding up jets, herding clouds like sheep, filling sails, stirring leaves, causing rough seas. What’s always passing, but already everywhere? The Cherokee named ‘air’ the ‘keeper of spirits,” because it sighs, cries, whispers and moans. They credited it with great power and influence. Today, we watch the skies with doppler witchery, we forecast its path, with the gambler's odds - see, the wind has turned on us, many times - like a tornado. . . Songs for this; Colors Of the Wind - End Title by Vanessa Williams They Call the Wind Maria by Harve Presnell Windy by The Association