Hmmm, is there anything in nature quite like it? Mysterious, shapeless, ghostly and yet with so many faces. We can’t see it or touch it or smell it. So how do we know it is really there?
Most of nature is bound to form and substance. But the wind knows no such boundaries. It exists, it would seem, only in relation to the things it acts upon. But we miss much of the majesty of nature if we rely only on what our senses can interpret. The wind is the unseen spirit of nature.
A frame of reference is helpful. Colour, as we perceive it, is comprised of infinite combinations of four primary colours: red, blue, yellow and black. Nature too has four primary elements: sun, water, soil and wind.
The wind is the rebel amongst these four siblings. Yes, if faithfully fulfils its duties in the alchemy of nature. But the wind has a repertoire of faces that puts its brothers and sisters to shame.
Did you know that there is an official scale of measure for the wind? It’s called the Beaufort Scale and it is meant to impose scientific order on what we can’t lay our hands upon. But the categories within it are the outward markings only of a deeper current. Follow me as we take a poetic ride through the 12 moods of the rebel wind.
Beaufort #0: Calm – Less than 1 mile per hour
Smoke curls and rises like the exhale of a butterfly in a prayer of exhortation at the dawn of desire.
Beaufort #1: Light Air – 1 to 3 miles per hour
A pregnant rustling in the leaves, a wisp of breath against your face, the gentle incandescence of hope stirred.
Beaufort #2: Light Breeze – 3 to 7 miles per hour
Ripples waltz across the slumbering and silent river awakening the fevered dance of affection.
Beaufort #3: Gentle Breeze – 8 to 12 miles per hour
A first autumn leaf of yearning, tinged yellow-red by want, takes flight toward its intended.
Beaufort #4: Moderate Breeze – 13 to 17 miles per hour
Illicit desires unburdened on crumpled sheets of paper scurry along the sidewalk in aimless fits and starts.
Beaufort #5: Fresh Breeze – 18 to 24 miles per hour
Supple branches of the willing willow sway to the restless chords of music rising from the hollows of desire.
Beaufort #6: Strong Breeze – 25 to 30 miles per hour
Unsanctioned passion and rebellious want whistle in the wires.
Beaufort #7: High Wind, Near Gale – 31 to 38 miles per hour
Desired obsessed with itself rattles and moans in the windowpanes in a restless night of the soul.
Beaufort #8: Gale – 39 to 46 miles per hour
Tidal waves of love…
Beaufort #9: Strong Gale – 47 to 54 miles per hour
crest on the open sea…
Beaufort #10: Storm, Whole Gale – 55 to 63 miles per hour
drawing courage from the deeps…
Beaufort #11: Violent Storm – 64 to 72 miles per hour
thundering toward a fated shore…
Beaufort #12: Hurricane – Over 64 miles per hour
all caution to the wind.
The wind is a metaphor for the gamut that our passions run from the rarest of rare moments of perfect peace to the tortured, thrashing darkness of despair. We each ride our own winds of emotion. We are the 5th element of nature.
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Great site…keep up the good work.
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competitive intelligence
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nice post. I would love to follow you on twitter. By the way, did you guys learn that some Iranian hacker had hacked twitter yesterday.
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