And They Called the Wind

And They Called the Wind

      What might be a sleepless night for some proved quite the opposite last night, the winds howling and whistling throughout the moments I was awake.  Free from thoughts of falling trees and crashing windows, the winds almost lulled me to sleep, an animal hunkered down and ready for this invisible display of nature.  But it did get me thinking.  Other than a few giant wind power turbines (as mentioned, the newer propeller-like wind turbines stretch taller than the Empire State Building, which, if you've ever gazed up from the sidewalk below that building, you know is one almost-unimaginable height), I knew very little about wind itself.  As it turns out, there was much to learn.

   The magical force of wind has inspired mythological gods and fairy tales (remember a cartoonish cloud face blowing things along?), has powered sail boats and airplanes, broken forested trees and spread fires, dried hanging clothes and dried soils into ruin;  but wind has been our friend of sorts, even though a cooling breeze is a far cry from a hurricane force turning pieces of broken lampposts into a bevy of shrapnel.  And it was this latter sort of wind last night that fascinated me.  What could cause such a sustained force, something my tiny mouth and lungs could not duplicate, even to a tiny gnat innocently crawling along the table.  Here was something that cleaned the trees and backyard vegetation as surely as a mild drizzle, shaking out the leaves that wouldn't fall or the weakened branches that soon would.  And even for me, it all served as a reminder that wind, in all of its forms,  was a force to be reckoned with.

   Our relatively small planet still has quite a few tricks up her sleeve, patterns that sustain life and create movement.  Differing pressures from warm and cold ocean currents cause continent-sized chunks of wind to move, our land masses of mountains and plains partially directing its path at the lower levels.  And atmospheric differences from equator to poles do the same.  And for a less-than-understandable definition of how wind is measured, I refer you to this from Wikipedia:  Wind speed is measured by anemometers, most commonly using rotating cups or propellers.  When a high measurement frequency is needed (such as in research applications), wind can be measured by the propagation speed of ultrasound signals or by the effect of ventilation on the resistance of a heated wire.  Another type of anemometer uses pitot tubes that take advantage of the pressure differential between an inner tube and an outer tube that is exposed to the wind to determine the dynamic pressure, which is then used to compute the wind speed.  

   There are the solar winds and gale force winds and all sorts of other fascinating facts (who knew that winds are measured by sustained speeds over a minute or two, and that even that measurement varies by country)...it makes for a fascinating read (really), especially as my return home was over an hour shorter due to the jet being pushed along by the wind; and what did I come home to (it's winter here so other than the evergreens, there are no leaves on the trees) but more wind.  Lots of wind!  Trees swaying and dust eddies cleaning the streets as easily as elves.  And I welcomed it, as free as the spinning Julie Andrews perched on a mountaintop at the opening scene of The Sound of Music.

   But what was missing from all this, all while being swept into my life, was another kind of wind...the winds of change.  Things were happening, in some direction (better or worse?), but like that blindfolded pin-the-tail game, I was giddy with being spun around.  I could (can) feel it.  And even though the articles in magazines keep blasting me with articles saying creativity ends at a certain age (basically, they mean my age), I'm feeling the change happily, invisibly, powerfully...just like the wind.

Addendum:  History has influenced many versions of the term, one being during the Revolutionary War when General George Washington, already facing 90% of his troops leaving due to fatigue, lack of pay and low morale, faced certain defeat.  The British navy stood ready to sail upriver in New York to bolster their troops, the very men that General Washington was ready to attack.  But the winds suddenly shifted and the British navy was unable to advance, which secured Washington's attack and victory and greatly boosted morale and recruitment for the dwindling Continental troops.  My brother tells of many such stories, even in ancient China where history changed course due to changing winds...fate, or as the name came to be, the "winds of change?"