The Poetry of the Wind

I want to know the poetry of the wind.

What get's carried, and where it goes...

A project I stumbled across on facebook, http://hint.fm/wind/gallery/mar-17.js.html, is a map, a simulation of the winds in the US.  Jacob and I were looking at it last night, and could make out the movement around some of the mountains we crossed in Southern California. Where San Jacinto would be, there was a circular motion to the wind as it went and ran up against it and was pushed around in a different direction. San Gorgonio, and up and up as we started to pick out parts of the Sierra. It's neat to give a picture to an energy we can't see even though we feel the wind, hear the wind, touch the wind, taste the wind.

What other energies do we pass right on by, simply because we can't see them?

Arlington by The Wailin' Jennys started playing as I was writing. Happenstance? Perhaps...

Where do you go little bird

When it snows, when it snows

When the world turns to sleep

Do you know, do you know

Is there something in the wind

Breathes a chill in your heart and life in your wings

Does it whisper 'start again'

Start again

Where is the sun in the night

Is it cold, is it cold

Does it feel left behind

All alone, all alone

Does it wander through the dark

Does it wait for the dawn, wish on a star

Does it stray very far

Very far

Where is your home restless wind

Is it there, is it here

Do you search for a place to belong

Search in vain, search in fear

Or is your spirit everywhere

Is your voice every tree

Your soul of the air

If there's no home is there no death

Is there no death