Who Has Seen The Wind?

Frankenstorm Sandy came barreling into Westchester, very slow at first, but gaining velocity as it grew.  Watching 40 and 50 foot high trees doing a ballet number behind my house was culturally beautiful, yet realistically scary. Any one of them at any minute could snap. Two actually did…one uprooted, the other was felled, missing a stone wall by inches.

We finished dinner just before the lights went out. Washing dishes by candlelight is not romantic. We were much better prepared for Sandy having experienced Irene and Floyd.  We packed the fridge and freezer with ice.  We powered up our cells in our cars.  Stocked up on duraflame logs. Pulled out the hand crank radio and miners lamps. God bless our barbecue grill.  It boils water and grills defrosting steak. Made a mental note to get a gas stove and a generator.

Many thoughts careened.  How lucky we are. How powerful is nature.  How minor are our troubles compared to others.  How beautiful are the people helping other people.  How unimportant are things we thought we couldn’t live without. How wonderful is the miracle that got us through this. How tough are the lives of people who never have light and power.  And then for a chuckle, I thought of a childhood poem from The Golden Book of Poetry (1947) that always reminds me to have reverence for the forces of nature.

Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads, The wind is passing by.