“When I was very young, the wind was a friend, a comforter. I spent most of my time outdoors in the elements. I would watch the wind blow the trees back and forth in the summer time and watch the spent dandelion blossoms spill their seeds in the air. I would delight in seeing the strong winds push big cotton clouds swiftly through the sky. In the fall, the leaves would dance in swirling colors through the streets. In the winter, the snow would come, driven hard by the wind, to create big drifts to dive into. The spring would bring rain and thunderstorms coming up over the horizon, and the wind would come up and rattle the branches. The wind and I have been connected in a very special way since childhood. The following poem was a favorite of mine.” Yu/stan/kema

THE WIND

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you;

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I;

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

Christina Rossetti