The wind has been stirring the last few days. At some moments it whips around, making the chimes outside my bedroom window ring, churning the clothesline line around in it's holder, adding it's own creak and groan to the chimes, rustling the leaves on the ground and whistling through the trees. The wind has been busy.
Saturday the wind was warm. Too warm for a Saturday in February. At 8:45am it felt like the warm wind that blows during July and August. Sunday's wind was much the same. Not good.
The wind is stirring up the pollens, the things that make my eyes itchy and throat scratchy. It blows the smell of the acacia trees through my car windows and the blossoms of the tree around, leaving a yellow film over everything. I don't really like acacia trees. The tree branches outside my office window groan and creak with the wind, as well. Every so often there is a crick-creak-crack as a branch gives way. It's interesting that I never see the crashing branch but I can hear it through the wind.
As the leaves scatter, as the pollens spread, as the chimes ring out, the wind reminds me of cleansing, a rearranging of things, of moving. There is symbolism in the wind, a reminder that all things change, one moment softly and gently, another with such force that it takes my breath away. The wind can bring destruction, it can bring cleansing...it can also bring Mary Poppins. :)