The North Wind doth Blow?

Climate, Poetry, Weather

Have you noticed? For all we’ve been focussed on day-to-day weather recently, it’s the temperature we’ve talked about, here in Europe at any rate (‘Phew it’s too hot!’), and the lack of rain (‘Oooh, my poor garden!). I realised, only the other day, that wind has been in short supply. No summer breezes, no brisk gusts, no sudden squalls.

Then Rebecca’s Monthly Poetry Challenge dropped into my in-box. She wants us to write about wind, employing the literary device of anaphora. No, I didn’t know what that was either. You can read about it here.

I could have snuck in and offered the rhyme that my children were brought up on.

When the wind is in the east,
’tis neither good for man nor beast;
When the wind is in the north,
the skillful fisher goes not forth;
When the wind is in the south,
it blows the bait in the fishes’ mouth;
When the wind is in the west,
then ’tis at the very best.

But that would be cheating.

So here we are …

This is wind: softly susurrating.
This is wind: sweetly sighing.
This is wind: breezily billowing.
This also is wind: galloping gustily;
roaring and raging; shrieking and storming -
destructive; disastrous.
Here today.  Gone tomorrow.
This is wind.

And it turns out that wind is not after all an endangered species.  Yesterday was properly windy, for the first time in weeks.

That Wind Last Week

North Yorkshire, Weather

Beaufort Scale 8. Fresh gale at 62-74 kph (39-46 mph).

Twigs and branches break off of trees.

22nd & 23rd May 2020.

That wind!  It animates me – I feel alive, alert.

I need it to tug me, bend me. I want the battle. I’ll resist.

I step outside.  The wind slaps at me, stops my breath.

It whistles and whines through the trees, lacerating leaves.

Branches bend and bow – some break.

It soughs and snatches at the swishing grass.

Swifts swoop, scud, soaring at its will.

I feel its power.  I’m energised, excited, strong.

 

 

The wind, the wind. The sea, the sea

Blogging challenges

Wind turbines near Zeebrugge.

I love wind turbines.  I love to see them set against the skyline, and marching across the crest of a distant line of hills.  And this week, I loved to see them near the coast, their legs in the sea, a gritty port-side industrial landscape behind them.

These are wind turbines near Zeebrugge, near Rotterdam, and near Hull.

In response to today’s Ragtag Challenge: Wind.

Click on any image to view full size