I noticed the absence of wind where I live
There are some summer breezes in the morning
But if thunderstorms are not forecast in the afternoon
Then it’s still, silent and humid

Its loss reminded me of wind I loved
Wind hitting my face
And tangling my hair while I was on the back of a motorcycle
Going fast on a freeway or a mountain back road
Goggles let me see without the fear of bugs hitting my eyes
And the faster we went – the more the wind was thrilling
It made me feel alive

Wind at the top of a mountain whipping around
As you stood looking in all directions
The wind felt like a messenger
Bringing you knowledge of far-off places
If you were open to receiving it

Wind that drove those tumble weeds across the desert
And across roads of traffic
I thought of those traveling weeds as my anxieties of grief
When one was hit at a high speed
It would break up and disappear
But most just traveled with the unseen wind off
To other places as problems for other people

Winds that scared me
Included a night hurricane I was in as a child
The power went off
The shutters banged loudly against the house
Like guns going off
My parents were worried
And they wouldn’t let me near the windows
But I desperately wanted to see
It was scarier not knowing than actually seeing

Winds in New Mexico sometimes were sustained for
Periods of days at high speed
The desert sand forced its way under the doors and windows
At night the wind howled like a being that wanted to be free
I always wondered why the cacti were so low to the ground
And now I know it was because its survival required a plan.

As we all do.