Note - I wrote the following "ramble" probably two-and-a-half years ago, when I was living with my Abilene family out in the country. Sometimes little things stir memories which simply must be recorded, and this was one of those times. Reminds me of where I've been, of days past, of God's whispers and gifts from my childhood. He's the same God today, and no less full of wonder and beautiful mystery.
Today I smelled the wind. He was lusty and strong, and brought smells of watered grass. Not sure why, since it was only a warm winter day, with more ice to come. Maybe it was just the grass’s growing pangs, like the souring scent of a bowl of bubbling yeast dough. But it said, “Remember me, old friend? I know you, girl from the West Texas middle-o-nowhere town.”
And I remember the little league fields, my brothers playing, I on the cold stands or in the dirt with toy animals, whipped about by the unchecked gusts. Or stepping outside to dibble in my garden, to carry trash to the huge dumpster and hope I wouldn’t have to chase any old napkins across our acres, or running out on adventures through the back lot of mesquites and tall grass and threat of rattlers and lure of forts.
Sometimes it could be such a cold through-your skin chilly wind. Or in summer it was hot and parching, like a giant trying to melt the ice that actually wasn’t on you. Spring and fall, though, were nice. Then it was gentler, with the excitement of change. Growth and coziness. The two beautiful calls, one outdoors, one in. The heath and hearth both beautiful, both hinted and hummed and heavily hearkened by my friend, the gusty wind.