March brings breezes loud and shrill

It is really windy today. It is quite an unfamiliar sight here in Italy to see storm clouds building up and then being shooed off by the wind. Little clouds are scudding swiftly across the horizon, like schoolchildren taken on a day trip. Today though, as it's the first of March, he has made an appearance. We're not used to feeling the wind moving the air around us, our hair is blowing all over the place and getting stuck to lip gloss, leaves fluttering by as though they are looking for a place to stop or a drain to block.

My mum always brought the world around us to life. The changing seasons, the moods of the weather, all had rich personalities. Everything had its place in the universe. She made the wind seem like a fun, lively companion. She would tell us to inhale deeply and the wind would blow all the cobwebs away. She read this lovely poem by William Howitt, 1792-1879, he seems to think of the wind like she did. I'll just write the first and last part to give you the flavour, because it is quite long.


The wind in a frolic

The wind one morning sprung up from sleep,
saying, "Now for a frolic, now for a leap.!
Now for a mad-cap,, galloping chase,
I'll make a commotion in every place,!"
So it swept with a bustle right through a great town,
Creaking the signs and scattering down
Shutters, and whisking, with merciless squalls,
Old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls,
There never was heard a much lustier shout;
As the apples and oranges trundled about.
and the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes
For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize.

here is the last part-

But away went the wind in its holiday glee,
And now it was far on the billowy sea,
And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow,
And the little boats darted to and fro
But lo! It was night, and it sank to rest,
On the sea-bird's rock, in the gleaming west,
Laughing to think, in its fearful fun,
How little of mischief it had done.

That really makes you look at a windy day with much more affection and joy.

A friend of mine from the North of England, really misses the wind, living here in Italy. On a rare windy evening, she likes to go to bed and just lie there listening to the wind. It is such a lovely warm feeling, to be safe inside in the warm when the wind is busy howling outside.

My mum used to sing a song that started like this-

Which way does the wind blow,
Which way does it go?
It blows over meadow
And over the snow.

And lastly on this lovely windy day, Christina Rossetti

The Wind

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.