Mom had a fascination with the wind that I never did completely figure out. When I was a youngster and playing or working outside, the summer breezes could be quite stiff sometimes - to the point of annoyance to me. She'd be out in the same wind, and make some remark about the marvelous breeze, blissfully lifting up her arms as if she'd love to go flying along with it. Other times, we'd be all cozied inside the house and listening to the winter wind shrieking up a storm outside. Mom loved that sort of wind, too, if she didn't need to be out in it. She'd sometimes recite the beginning lines of Eugene Field's Night Wind poem: "Have you ever heard the wind go 'Yooooo'? 'Tis a pitiful sound to hear! It seems to chill you through and through With a strange and speechless fear..." Yes, Mom, thanks to your expressive spirit, I have!
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