Wind: Too Much Air

A science teacher, in elementary school, once told me that we need air to live.  Since then, I have been thankful for air.  Someone else told me, in “life school”, that too much of a good thing is a bummer.  I’ve been thinking about that profound tension between adversity, and the appreciation of nature.

Winter at Mawson Hut, Cape Denison, Antarctica

Storm at Mawson Hut.
Frank Hurley, 1911-1914, State Library of New South Wales.

Prior to my five months in Antarctica (1993-94) the guy who organized the adventure told me, “You will either come to hate the wind, or you will come to like the wind.”  The “heads-up” was good, because it helped to decide that I would “like” the wind, and I refused to hate the wind. Besides, it was only for five months. 

keeling sailboat

I have been thinking about wind, especially today.  It wasn’t that strong; the rain was far more intense than the wind.  We had some hail today and yesterday.  But the wind was somewhat calming, and I thought of the relief from the wind, as I have battled it out with some depression today, which is really odd during the summer.  Winter is a haven for my depression, and I am so thankful that my depression is functional.  I can function with my depression, no matter how dark it gets.  I am still a dad , and a husband, a writer (some of my best writing comes during my depression), funny for everyone, and pleasant (for the most part).  The wind has been, over the years, a comrade during my isolatory scenes.  I very much know that the wind is there / here, with me; whether it is moving at 20 mile per hour, or 50 miles per hour.  I acknowledge that the wind represents adversity, depending on its strength.  And for those  on a sailboat, the wind means the difference between sailing … and sitting still.  I will close with this confession: I was walking back to my hooch in ’93 (October) and the temperature was 90 below (farenheit) … and the wind rallied at 60 mph.  Even though I had all of my skin covered, it felt like my face was getting attacked by sharp needles.  There are days … I don’t enjoy the wind.  It’s just too much air.  But the tension, between adversity and my appreciation for nature, will never end.



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