And the Wind Cries Mary
Hey alive folks!
I’ve begun writing an essay on wind – how it’s influenced my life, how it carries parts of us to other places and brings parts of others to us, how I tend to fight it when it might be better to go with it. The topic of wind made me think of this awesome Jimi Hendrix song: The Wind Cries Mary.
Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past
And with his crutch, it’s old age, and it’s wisdom
Since I got the idea to write about wind, it’s been showing up all over the place, like in this book called BEAUTY I’m reading by John O’Donohue. Gorgeous book. Beautifully written and heartfelt. He writes about wind,
“Movement is a sign of life.” I feel very alive when caught up in the wind, whether it feels good or bad.
“At times the wind has a haunting, poignant music.” I wonder if this is the sound of voices carried from afar?
“Perhaps, the wind achieves poignancy because it has no name.” I’m trying to think of a wind with a name, but cannot. Free of labeling, the wind is.
“It feels as if the wind would love you to dance.” Sometimes I wish I could minimize gravity enough to go with the wind to let it carry me somewhere new.
On my bike trip across Italy, I recall vividly the day we biked into the wind going uphill for a good three hours. We were riding along a small canyon and the entire road appeared to be a wind tunnel. Every peddle seem to take a Herculean effort. It seemed endless and replenishing.
When I climbed this extinct volcano in France on a June day, the brutal wind kept knocking me to my feet. At many points, I had to crawl to escape being blown off the side.
Four years ago I went to Florida for Christmas. The warm, balmy wind caressing my face gave me an instant dose of euphoria. I thought, “this is heaven.”
I went kayaking on the Concord River, but the wind and the current made it hard for me to keep my boat straight. It kept wanting to go sideways up the river. Why did I try to stop my boat from doing that? What’s wrong with the sideways approach to life?
Wind can feel positive or negative to me, yet it always commands my respect.
Have you had any memorable experiences with the wind?
Muse thanks! Giulietta
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For me there is magic and mystery in the wind – its voice, the tales it could tell, the places it has been. There are days when I want to sit and listen to it and write its story – its ghost writer, if you will.
I might write my own little post on this – or not – who knows!!
Loved it and will now check out that book.
Hi TE!
You’ll love the book. A ghost writer for the wind – lovely. I’d enjoy reading your post on wind. Many thanks, G.
One of the reasons I climb and love high, lonely places is that particular wind – the one at the very top that makes me lean into it – that wind that I like to imagine has blown farther, miles and miles and miles, since last touching anything else. I like to pretend, for that moment, that the wind is mine, and I am hers.
Hey Michael,
Oh yeah, the wind that makes you lean into her. It makes me think of the walls of wind I’ve had to push into — like it’s me against an almost immovable object.
Dig your love affair with the wind in high, lonely places! She is a real temptress — sometimes warm and helpful other times cool and taking no prisoners.
Thx, G.
I have so many powerful memories of walking at the beach, the wind fiercely whipping around me. It’s like the wind and the waves have some special dance that only they can do together. This is a beautiful post, G, and I am such an admirer of John O’Donohue. (And of course, you.) I was sad to learn recently that he’s no longer with us. His book Anam Cara is a personal favorite.
Patty, I just bought Anam Cara!
What a gorgeous memory and sentence you’ve written: “It’s like the wind and the waves have some special dance that only they can do together.”
Your writing always creates a wind of loveliness wherever it breezes into.
Thx, G.
G and Patty,
Maybe we should start the “I HEART John O’Donohue club?” At our house, we also love Anam Cara as well as his book of blessings.
G, I keep hearing Jimi Hendrix .. Fond memories of that song. Thanks!
Paul,
I’d join that club. As I mentioned to Patty above I bought his Anam Cara book and have begun drinking in the pages. He has such a love affair with words. Sorry to hear someone with such beauty to bring to the planet has moved on. We NEED more folks like him.
Can you imagine if we focused on beauty instead of the ugliness we go out of our way to seek out?
Don’t you just love Jimi Hendrix? It might strain my voice, but I’d love to sing Purple Haze some night at Karaoke. A genius alongside John O’Donohue!
I appreciate!!! your comment. G.
Any sea breeze is just perfect, there’s such a comfort in that wind lifting off the sea and reaching us.
Hi Joanne,
Thanks for stopping by! Yes, comfort that’s a loving way to describe the wind. I never thought of it that way.
The nameless wind has so many faces …
Thx, G.
Giulietta,
What a lovely post! The wind lends itself to so much music, poetry, emotion, adventure, strife, sound effects, sensations, emotions, spiritual interpretations – I could go on and on – but more importantly, the wind is that one force in nature that we can relate to in many ways.
Yes, I have a story of an adventurous little girl of ten on a freighter during the tail end of a storm on the Bay of Biscay. The wind had chased everyone from the main deck – it was a small ship. So the girl let the wind push her, pelting across the deck with the wind behind her, to the end of the ship where, just before going overboard, she grabbed onto a mast, hauled herself around it and went back for another run – for the sheer joy of feeling this great force impelling her forward – almost to her doom. That was, until an alert sailor caught her, and pulled her back inside with a grim warning.
Hi Penelope,
Welcome back! I hope all is going super with you. What a great story of fearlessness and fun bundled up together on a freighter. Aah, the grim warning. Those happen frequently. Sometimes you need to take a chance with your life to have a life … Thx, G.