On The Wind

I have been thinking about the wind in many ways lately. The wind engages our senses and sets the environment for our characters or is even the character and main event of many stories.

Old man wind sighs.
The North wind blows.
A bitter cold wind aches.
A soft spring wind whispers.
The dry desert wind strips the moisture from the skin.
A putrid smell lofted in the air from the sewers.
The acrid metal tang of blood arrived on the wind announcing the battlefield.
The storm arose as the wind lashed the shutters.
The crew worked liked robots, thank the gods, as the winds howled drowning out the Captain’s orders.
The wind lifted the feathers lightly in her gentle hands.
We lay becalmed losing all hope until I felt the hairs on my arm lifted by a silent breeze.

We experience this phenomenon every day of our lives being so essential to that state of being. When working our stories it can be present as a vital part or absent as a silent partner. On rare occasions a story is taking place entirely inside as an element then even the absence can have an effect.

The wind can indicate time in eroding and changing the landscape. The seasonal locations or the erosion planes. The trick is not forgetting it is there until the storm is over.

Posted in Main, Reflections, Uncategorized.