Not exactly wind in the willows, but...

I don't often think about the wind or breezes or slight wafts of barely moving air, but tonight I couldn't help but hear the wind.

There are oaks, pines, red buds, dogwoods, pecans, poplars, maples, water oaks, a stand of bamboo, and the ever unpoplular hedge bushes around my home, along with a slightly dilapidated parking shed (used to store wood), a large garage, and a small metal storage building located strategically around my property. I'm not sure whether or not my ears are super keen on sounds, but as the wind wends its way through the various barriers, there are definitely different tones which are magical to me.

A gentle breeze wafting the leaves of the maples whispers a promise of opening all the windows to let the air move about more freely while lightly stirring the pine needles together to afford a slightly off-key thrumming of celebration. The smaller trees - dogwoods and red buds - strive to raise their young branches into the breeze to sing their rustling song in perfect harmony. The pecans, poplars, water oaks, and large oak trees majestically stand silently awaiting a heavier breath of air to stir their souls.

Tonight, there is a heary wind blowing in from the north. The music of the wind is entirely different now. Some of the branches of the poplars and largest oak tree scrub against the metal roof of the old parking shed in a definite 3/4 time, while through the eaves of the house the wind awakens unseen ghosts who keen in delight and celebrate their short-term freedom. The dried bamboo plays the part of the majestic organ with its many-toned pipes lending a pomposity to the overall orchestration. The pecans bend and bow in a gracefully strident dance of glee as if the ecstasy of the wind were for their pleasure only, while the pines, in utter abandonment of their stately grace, twist and shake their branches with sighs laden with great joy. The hedge bushes scrape against each other in a creaking cadence. The leafless maples emit a sorrowful dirge to mourn the loss of their beautiful foliage, but stand straight and tall as if in defiance of the wind. And, as the wind blows between the house and the garage and bounces off the metal storage building, tones which would challenge the best contralto seem to be in competition with the rest of nature's musicians around me. Listening to the blending of these lovely sounds is comforting to me, although it means the temperature is dropping rapidly and it will be cold enough in the morning the freeze the belly of a brass Buddha!

Isn't it wonderful what we can hear when we take the time to truly listen?

Micky Finn has listened!