Words about the wind

Greetings my dear chums

I have decided to introduce the subject of Meteorology to this column. A branch of science concerned with the processes and phenomena of the atmosphere, especially as a means of forecasting the weather.

Us ‘outdoors types’ can expend much energy considering the weather in all its guises. It affects the planning of our jaunts into nature, and it has a considerable influence upon the outcomes of our expeditions. It is therefore a subject appropriate to these pages.

Today I shall begin upon the topic of wind.

Always remember that in nature there is wind not just on windy days, but on every day. In town, city types dashing about their business will only notice a blow should it happen to make their umbrellas unstable. They would think nothing of the beauty of a breeze so gentle that only a beech tree at the edge of the long meadow notices its passing with the merest flickers high in its canopy.

If your path lies high up over the tops these winds will always find you out.

Being in the outdoors throughout the seasons we become students of the airs. We enter a relationship with the wind, the breeze, the blow, the flutter, the gale and the gust as they change and react to the seasons, the length of the days and the height of the sun.

Remember our early year hikes? When the days are still and cold and short. Winter fights to keep its grip upon the land, until the wild winds of springtime rip the delicate blossoms from the tree, turning petals into blizzards of snow.

We are the ones who notice the gusts playing in lush summer meadows. We see the tall grasses dancing and prancing in the currents as though small unseen children are running hither and zither amongst the storks.

In high summer at eventide we breath the hot scents of the gentle whiffs and wafts that have traveled slowly all the day over a sun-baked landscape. We remember zephyrs, full and heavy with the delicious scent of cut hay, or pungent with the sweetness of bracken as it cools in the late evening.

Remember there is as much joy to be found in a breeze that barely glances your cheek as in the wild wind-rush moving through the forest canopy. Appreciate it, watch it, study it, feel it. Thrill as the gusts of Autumn build into mighty torrents. Screaming, whining and moaning, they career at breakneck speed sweeping away any who resist the power and might of the gale. Weather your path lies high up over the tops, or deep down in a snug dale, these winds will always find you out.

I urge you to standstill and steady in the gusts if you can. Then look around and listen. The sound in your ear is the howling gale. The only sight above, a sky filled by racing clouds. At your feet the water-course will froth and foam.

…… The only sound in your ear is the howling gale, the only sight above, a sky filled by racing clouds.

Finally as the year rushes towards its ending, busy winds send the leaves flying and dying, scurrying and hurrying down the lanes into piles tucked snug in the hedgerow bottom, to lie through the winter ready to feed the next springtime explosion.

There is much to be said upon the subject of the wind. It is weather to be appreciated.

Pip Pip

Ever Yours,
Echo Sweetly BV
Proprietor and Editor,
The Gentlemen Adventurer’s Chronicle

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