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Wind & Breezes
Sky & Clouds
How refreshing is the breeze which now fans my forehead! — it seems like the sweet breath of a guardian Angel. ~Charles Lanman, "Musings," 1840
One autumn day a wind came out of the north, grey and gruff and looking for mischief. He joined another bully from the west who felt the same way. Together they howled around the chestnut tree and rattled and throttled its branches, until it bowed and let the winds have their way. ~Ethel Pochocki (1925–2010), "Little-Good-for-Nothing," The Attic Mice, 1990
The wind blew — not up the road or down it, though that's bad enough, but sheer across it, sending the rain slanting down like the lines they used to rule in the copybooks at school... ~Charles Dickens, The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, 1836
The wind shows us how close to the edge we are. ~Joan Didion, "Los Angeles Notebook," Slouching Towards Bethlehem, 1968
Spooky wild and gusty; swirling dervishes of rattling leaves race by, fleeing the windflung deadwood that cracks and thumps behind. ~David J. Beard (1947–2016), @Raqhun tweet, 2009
The substance of the winds is too thin for human eyes, their written language is too difficult for human minds, and their spoken language mostly too faint for the ears. ~John Muir (1838–1914), A Thousand-Mile Walk To the Gulf, 1916
I'm going to imagine that I'm the wind that is blowing up there in those tree-tops. When I get tired of the trees I'll imagine I'm gently waving down here in the ferns — and then I'll fly over to Mrs. Lynde's garden and set the flowers dancing — and then I'll go with one great swoop over the clover field — and then I'll blow over the Lake of Shining Waters and ripple it all up into little sparkling waves. Oh, there's so much scope for imagination in a wind! ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, 1908
A furious night wind whips tree branches into a violent frenzy.
The moon replies
with a poem.
~Dr. SunWolf, @WordWhispers tweet, 2013, professorsunwolf.com
The music of the wind has a hundred varied notes. It plays on every bush and tree a different harmony, whistling in the thornbushes, surging in the pines and firs, rustling in the evergreens, in winter chanting a mighty anthem in the bare branches, in summer playing a gay, whispering tune among the leaves. Listen to its shivering voice in the winter grass, the silky swish of its music in summer meadows, the dry whisper of its song in rushes and reeds. There is wonder in that wandering call in spring woodlands, when first it murmurs from afar, an almost inaudible stir and rumour, growing louder and ever louder as it sweeps through the forest and cries triumphantly in every tree. Never silent, never still, the restless wind seeks everywhere some instrument on which to play its enchanting music. ~Dallas Kenmare Browne Kelsey (c.1905–1970), "The Music of Nature," 1931
Those delicate wanderers,
The wind, the star, the cloud...
~Æ (George William Russell), "Sacrifice," Homeward Songs by the Way, 1894
It was one of those sunny, boisterous March days with great white clouds sailing across the blue sky, like full-rigged galleons, and a wind that blew tiles off roofs, and hats off heads, and banged doors and slammed windows. ~R. A. Dick (Josephine A. Campbell Leslie, 1898–1979), The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, 1945
They found themselves in a dim, cool, green place where winds were fond of purring. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, 1915
If I could see the wind, it would look orchestral: strands and swirls nested into each other, braiding and springing apart. ~Craig Childs, Virga & Bone: Essays from Dry Places, 2019
Through woods and mountain passes
The winds, like anthems, roll...
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "Midnight Mass for the Dying Year," Voices of the Night, 1839
Fan us, breeze, with your odorous kisses... ~Sara L. Vickers Oberholtzer, "The Beautiful Harvest," Come for Arbutus, and Other Wild Bloom, 1882
The weathercocks on spires and housetops were mysterious with hints of stormy wind, and pointed, like so many ghostly fingers, out to dangerous seas, where fragments of great wrecks were drifting, perhaps, and helpless men were rocked upon them into a sleep as deep as the unfathomable waters. ~Charles Dickens, Dealings with the Firm of Dombey and Son, 1846
The wind makes you ache in some place that is deeper than your bones. It may be that it touches something old in the human soul, a chord of race memory that says Migrate or die—migrate or die. ~Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot
A light wind swept over the corn, and all nature laughed in the sunshine. ~Acton Bell (Anne Brontë), The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, 1848
There was an edge to this darkness... A cold wind was blowing out of the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things. ~George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones, 1996
Gilbert and Anne... were sauntering through the shadows of the Haunted Wood. Beyond, the harvest hills were basking in an amber sunset radiance, under a pale, aerial sky of rose and blue. The distant spruce groves were burnished bronze, and their long shadows barred the upland meadows. But around them a little wind sang among the fir tassels, and in it there was the note of autumn. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, 1915
The wind may alter twenty ways... ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Woodnotes, I"
Rain and wind speak more
than just water and air—
Rain patters hope
Wind whispers let go...
When man calls for aid, he calls first to the Winds. The Winds are always near us, by day and by night. ~"Pawnee Beliefs," Myths and Legends of the Great Plains, selected and edited by Katharine Berry Judson," 1913
Oh racing wind, thou wizard of the west,
From half across the world ye come to me...
Oh wind, wild wind, blow through my heart to-day!...
Today I am in love with life and thee!
~Jean Wright, "The Wizard Wind"
The air to her face and arms and legs was body-warm, so that it seemed to pass through her, making her a part of it, light and without form. ~Cid Ricketts Sumner, Sudden Glory, 1951
...passionate wind-songs in the pines. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, 1915
The wind stirred the sky like a sea. It made it boil and darken, then it made it foam against the mountains. It howled behind the clouds. The sun had disappeared. So had those still patches of peaceful azure. Nothing remained but clouds racing down towards the south. At times the wind plunged, crushed the wood, and hurled itself on the road, weaving long tresses of dust. ~Jean Giono (1895–1970), Regain, 1930, translated from the French by Henri Fluchè and Geoffrey Myers, Harvest, 1939 [a little altered –tg]
With the blowing of the west wind, old dreams returned. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, 1915
There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of wind. ~Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1974
Wind tries to show Tree how to run wild.
Tree: "I cannot leave this place."
Wind: "Then let's dance."
~Terri Guillemets, "Palm’s psalm," 2014
There is a purifying and uplifting potency in the winds, a potency in the waters — ocean and river and great rain. Our civilization has dealt with all these so successfully that we are apt to think of them as docile servants, or perhaps as petty annoyances, and we lose the sense of their power unless we deliberately go out to meet them in their own domain and let them have their way with us. Then, indeed, they sweep us out of ourselves for a season, and that is good. ~Elisabeth Woodbridge, "In the Rain," 1911
Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul. Anne was not wont to be troubled with soul fog. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, 1915
The howling wind went on down below, enough to tear your guts. ~Jean Giono (1895–1970), Regain, 1930, translated from the French by Henri Fluchè and Geoffrey Myers, Harvest, 1939
The night was filled with insects and a hesitant breeze that seemed to change direction with each gust. ~Abby Geni, The Wildlands, 2018
The wind did not move one direction. It was a madhouse wind. ~Craig Childs, Crossing Paths: Uncommon Encounters with Animals in the Wild, 1997
A chill wind
is the most exhilarating
for it often is the storms
that do the cleansing
and the storms
that have the more dramatic beauty
and the storms
that make us stand alone
arrested, amazed, in awe.
~Kate Lassman, from "Storm clouds," in The Avocet: A Journal of Nature Poetry, Fall 2016
AUSTROMANCY is a method of divination by the winds. It is, apparently, a branch of the science of Aeromancy, which says Agrippa, divines by aërial impressions, by the blowing of the winds, by rainbows, by circles about the moon and stars, by mists and clouds, and by imaginations in clouds and visions in the air. ~“A Short Lexicon of Alchemy,” appendix to The Hermetic and Alchemical Writings of Aureolus Phillippus Theophrastus Bombast of Hohenheim, called Paracelsus, The Great (1493–1541), editors A. E. Waite & L. W. de Laurence, 1894–1910 [Another term for wind divination is anemoscopy. –tg]
Rushing and crushing comes the gale
Of wind that is swept along,
After the thunder and lightning,
Like the chorus to a song.
~Sara L. Vickers Oberholtzer, "The Summer Rain," Violet Lee, and Other Poems, 1873
The freshness of the rain-wind blew against her face. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, 1915
No one but Night, with tears on her dark face,
Watches beside me in this windy place.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892–1950), Poem VII ("Night is my sister, and how deep in love..."), Fatal Interview, 1931
Original post date 2001 Jun 11
Revisions 2015 Feb 21, 2019 Sep 2
Last saved 2021 May 11 Tue 09:24 PDT