Wild wind of Winter
Sings Passion's Song..........
One of the things I miss about New England is the constant flow and variety of weather.
However, the lack of it here in the Sonoran Desert is what makes any kind of a change a cause for great celebration.
When my kids were young, on windy days we would all gather under the cottonwood to listen to the liquid quality of the dancing leaves.
Rainy days were a real treat. We would run down the street in the rain then come home to hot chocolate during the winter storms. When the summer "monsoons" came we would watch from the doorway as the duststorms rolled. The creosote scent (Larrea tridentata) filled the air from the approaching thunderstorms.
The lack heightens awareness and pleasure of the rare.
We recently had a good wind.
While hiking the other day, I thought how different plants sounded in the wind.
I sat down for a bit and listened as the wind passed through the saguaros and chollas . You can sense the rigidity in the flow. A soft, strong whistle.
The sound is a bit like pine.... but pine has flexibility ...you can hear the rough soughing as the needles brush against each other.
The sound of cottonwoods, aspens and birch have a liquid rushing.
The broader leaves, a more sumptuous, luxurious sound.
The whisper of long grasses are a lovely and soft
The flapping sound of palms doesn't appeal as much to me but perhaps on a warm night in the tropics....