A New Wind Blows

Started at 11:30 pm, 12/14/07

There are seven of us standing around this pitiful excuse for a tent. It is very dark and very windy on a high hilltop called Wig's Meadow. We had gotten up here while it was daylight and the wind was merely a nuisance, barely making the tall, gone-to-seed grass wave it's amber hues. In the distance twinkled the lights of a small mountain burg nestled between cleavage of two mountains and below the twinkling stars floating above. It's all to easy to say that we should have put the tent up earlier. But we were too busy cooking, drinking, puff-puff-passing, and planning the adventure that tomorrow would bring. Laying in the meadow, hiking to a small mountain pond, wandering through the maze of short stubby trees that grew in almost straight rows...so straight that it could have been a planned planted grove. Oh, and the acid that would make the day even cooler. So the tent got put aside, waiting patiently for the grand erection.

The campfire was an easy start. With a little help from the ever increasing wind, the wood caught quickly and soon was blazing, sometimes straight up, sometimes horizontal. But it was burning, so mission accomplished. The smoke was moving too fast at times to get in your face for too long (I hate white rabbits!). The way the wind was starting to pick up, someone should have mentioned setting the tent up. But no one spoke of it and it still lay where it landed.

Drinks were being drunk, pipes were being passed, and snacks were being consumed. Friends were together for a weekend of enlightenment, merriment, and for fun. It was only when the wind would not allow a lighter to be sparked did the first mention of the tent pop up. "Hey, we could sit in there and there wouldn't be the nuisance wind." But by that time the smartest of us made the suggestion, the wind was whipping around good.

If you haven't put up a tent (in the dark, tipsy, and without instruction) in a high wind, let me tell you it isn't the easiest of tasks. First off, every time someone would lose their grip on a corner, the tent would want to become a parachute. I bet if the people at each corner were small enough, it would have taken them all for an aerial ride. When we finally got the corners staked down, it was time for the framework. Yeah, right. The poles were supposed to go into these sleeves built into the tent, criss-cross applesauce back and forth in an x marks the spot. Hard to do doesn't even describe the level of difficulty doing it in that wind. After what seemed to be a lifetime, we finally got the poles in place and the dome of refuge from the gales was complete. It would only hold four comfortably, so we took turns on the pipe till all heads were taken care of. All night long that tent danced and be-bopped to the amusement and trepidation of all...funny to see it moving about, yet the threat of it being ripped apart remained. By the rising of the sun the next morning, the wind had abated and the day of endless wonder and wander began.

Wind. Invisible and powerful. Welcomed and hated. Storms are pushed in and taken away by it. Clouds are shaped and erased by it. Energy is created and aquatic transports are propelled by it. Deserts and mountain faces are transformed by it. And sometimes lives are changed by it. Happy winds bring light tinkling of metal and glass chimes which are a welcome sound. Sometimes I'm sitting in my hot tub and the sound of bells comes to my ears. I like it. Teasing winds move the leaves that I am trying to herd up and go running to the other side of the yard, laughing at me as I give chase. I don't like that. Vengeful winds move oceans past their borders and do undue damage to God and man's coastline creations. Hateful winds destroy strong buildings, stronger nature, and seemingly strong lives.

That night with the tent and friends was, oh, so long ago. But in the not to distant past, a wind come through my life that did not want. It was not welcomed or wished for. It left in it's wake a damaged heart and head surrounded by clutter that a light breeze will not blow away. Hazy clouds surround my head so thick that I can't see what lays ahead. I sit here hoping for a good strong breeze to push the clutter and fog far away. I don't want a hurricane or tornado that will only do more damage. I don't want a small zephyr or whirligig that just swirls the clutter around and around, and not away. I want a wind just strong enough to push away this unwanted feeling of lost love and rejection and usher in a new life and love. I want to lay my head down on a cozy and warm pillow of winds...

A cloud of eiderdown draws around me
Softening the sound
Sleepy time when I lie with my love by my side
And she's breathing low, and the candle dies

When night comes down you lock the door
The book falls to the floor
As darkness falls and waves roll by
The seasons change the wind is warm

Now wakes the owl, now sleeps the swan
Behold a dream, the dream is gone
Green fields, a cold rain
Is falling in a golden dawn

And deep beneath the ground the early morning sounds
And I go down
Sleepy time when I lie with my love by my side
And she's breathing low
And I rise like a bird,
In the haze when the first rays touch the sky
And the night winds die.

A Pillow of Winds-Pink Floyd

Finished at 12:38 pm, 12/15/07