February 21, 2014

"Windy Nights" by Robert Louis Stevenson, illustrated by Eric Kincaid

College--first semester of my freshman year.  First book purchased for English 101 class:

First poem in Western Wind:

Western wind, when will thou blow,
The small rain down can rain?
Christ! if my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!

--Anonymous, c. 1500

These lines kept running through my mind all night last night as I tossed and turned and listened to the raging winds that blew all night long.  I kept thinking I heard "noises" in the kitchen, would go out to investigate only to realize that the wind was blowing so hard it sounded like a jet plane was idling its engines in our backyard, and then would wearily climb back in bed reciting "and I in my bed again".  It was a long night!  

My great-grandmother pioneered on the plains of Nebraska, and the wind never stopped blowing.  It finally drove her to the point where she insisted on moving back to Indiana to escape the always present wind.  I grew up on the prairie and let me tell you, I am no stranger to winds that never cease.  But even I was a little unnerved by last night's winds and this morning I can see the tree tops swaying and bending to the will of the wind.  

May your day be filled with love, and very little wind!!

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