Now, Comes the Wind

Now comes the wind, stealth like creeper whispering venting in the shadowy image of the trees. A calm soft breeze easing in at first, a sojourner on the bland gray skies, dim lit end of winter's call, marching winds. Rising high up in the atmosphere dropping down as if a bird of prey eyeing some tantalizing delights. Breathless mistral bora chilling the air swooping in unsuspected xlook tantalizing the coastal seas to rise; Breathe, taking in a sirocco as it slips and slides north and east riding zephyr upon the ocean currents. To land across the distant horizon snaking, weaving, twisting along the foamy waves to touch the earth, twirl it up, down prairie mountain forests. Now comes the wind unseen figure spread wide and thin catabatic current fleetings, scouring the earth.