Gusts of 50 mph. Now that is wind. ‘We have more wind than we used to,’ said the old man to the old lady. ‘Too many beans,’ the old lady answered.

So there is wind, and there is wind. I think windmills would be highly functional in our neck of the woods. You can not see it, but it rules.

An Ill Wind blows from time to time. The animals know it. Mylo knows it and answers with a bark. We know it and yet look for the cause of our unease. Wars for no reason. Domestic disputes with no cause. Political strife that affects everyone.

There is magic in the wind if you listen. Angels blow in with the Windy Express. Fear turns to hope. Darkness is blown away. Clouds of despair evaporate under the revealed Sun.

The Voice can be heard in the wind. Slow and melodious with the certainty of purpose. Calming and assuring of your sense of place and who you are. Acceptance of the unique creation and talented person you have become.

The wind is spent in cruel words. Hurtful diatribes toward those not like us. Imaginations travel on the wind. Presumptions blow into our minds. Conspiracies take hold of our hearts.

‘The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind,’…