Written by Liz Frisbie of Richard Montgomery
When the trees are blown together to create a cacophony of branches and leaves, a feeling of tranquility washes over me. The wind is everywhere all the time; it can be the faintest of whispers in the night, or a gale with the fury of a vengeful spirit. But it can also blow at precisely the right strength to make the waving trees sound just like the ocean.
One of my earliest memories is of going to the beach on the last day of vacation and staring at the water. I don’t recall making a sandcastle or playing with my brother, but gaping open-mouthed at the deep blues and greens and whites of the waves. Something about the pale froth, blended into the ocean by the wind, made me reflect on my bond with my family, which had been made stronger over the past week. There were no petty arguments between my brother and me, no time-outs needed, my parents weren’t burnt out by endless work—it was calm. Instead of the usual stress of our lives, we woke up to the delicious smell of breakfast wafting through the air and the promise of a fun, relaxing day. I remember the triumphant fatigue after a long day of exploring. And I remember the wind, ever-present near the sea, ruffling my hair like a protective mentor, encouraging me to propose another game, another food dish, another attraction.
At the end of every full day when it finally came time to return to the hotel, my brother and I always managed to persuade our parents to stop by the beach. It was there, when all we could hear were the waves as we watched the sun disappear below the horizon, that we truly felt connected to one another. As the wind swirled around us, we stood there on the sand, the four of us silently proclaiming that we would always be there for one another. In those moments, we were the perfect family—a team supporting and loving each other unconditionally. But then the sun would disappear, leaving nothing but the sound of waves crashing into the shore and the soft touch of the wind.
Humans have felt the presence of wind for thousands of years. Ancient peoples of the Nile River Valley used it to propel their boats along the water, people in the Middle East used it for food production, the Dutch used wind-powered pumps to drain marshes and lakes. The wind has been a constant source throughout time, providing energy, transportation, and reprieve from the heat. Because it persists throughout time, it transcends time. It allows for memories to be stored within its wispy body, only to be activated if the wind blows the right way. And when it does, and the trees in my neighborhood knock together at exactly the right speed and strength, I hear the waves of the ocean crashing together, and feel the warmth of my family around me.
But over the years, the wind has become stronger. Human activities have increased the amount of gas in the atmosphere, leading to faster and faster winds. Calm breezes have become gales, gales have become hurricanes. The wind doesn’t blow the same way anymore. My family has changed too: my brother became burdened with college work, my parents fought for a break in their busy work schedules, tensions over my brother’s and my education increased. The feeling of being an unbreakable team sometimes dissipates, as if it were a pleasant aroma blown away all too quickly by a strong draft.
Nevertheless, in the very beginning of spring when there is just enough moisture in the air and the force of the breeze is just right, I am taken back to that last night on the beach. I sat apart from my family as I stared at the dark waves, seemingly alone in my hope that the feeling of belonging was never going to end. And yet, the wind swirled between us all, embracing us, uniting us in our love for one another. As I listen to the trees crash together in the wind and think back to that night so many years ago, I realize that even though the wind and my family’s love for one another has changed, they are both still there surrounding me, timeless in their power.
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