blowing

My favorite weather is wind. 

I like the feel of the wind in my hair.  I imagine the hair all around my face making me appear medusa-like.  I like the sounds it makes, even when they are bone chilling howls.  I love the rustle of the leaves. I imagine, at this time of the year, that the trees are sighing in relief to lose those leaves.  I can almost feel the restless itch that calls the wind god. 

In my mind, the words are whispered in nahuatl: Ehecatl.  When I am out on a run in the hot sun, sometimes I lift my arms and call to him, hoping he will send some cooling wind.  His name escapes my lips often when I feel the strong wind pushing me across the street, or when I am watching the trees sway and bend with his might.

Wind can be inconvenient and dangerous, especially when I am wearing my contacts or driving the car, but I still love it.

I feel like it is blowing out all the old ... as well as blowing something new in.

I do hope that it dies down before my two hour drive, though, only because my neck can't take the strain of gripping the steering wheel too tightly.

But it will be the price I pay if the weather gods decide to blow.