Cynthia had a post today about how the wind troubles her because it brings change. It howls outside her windows, messes up her hair, and interfers with cell phone conversations. But most importantly it reminds her of the changes in her life that she cannot stop - her son growing older, saying good-bye...
All of these are valid points.
But I love the wind. I think there's something exciting and magical in it. It makes me feel like a kid again, as I quote Winnie the Pooh and wonder what or who will blow in - like Mary Poppins. Adventures and friendships are bound to come from a good, strong wind. And my long, ringleted hair will surely be caught in a gust and blast about like a storybook character's.
I suppose that the reason Cynthia dislikes the wind is the very reason I like it so.
This is not to say that I look forward to my children growing up. I do and I don't. When I look back at an old film of Lydia and she is so little and cute and different from the toddler she is now, well, it breaks my heart a little that I can't remember her like that.
But I like the way that the mighty wind blows. It sweeps the staleness out of my house. (Smell of poopy diapers - be gone!) It scatters the things that I was failing at (like growing herbs and peppers from seeds - they all blew away). It gives me something to concentrate on other than myself and the horrible, humiliating day I had Tuesday (it was really bad). It makes the house creak a little bit, it shakes the leaves as hard as it can, and it moans outside my windows. (Encouraging me to snuggle up to my kids and husband.)
And so I sing: It seems that it may turn out to be, Feels that it will undoubteadly, Looks like a rather blustery day today. Hum dum dum dee dee dum. Hum dum dum...