BY LESLIE REGO
The wind in bare branches creates beautiful motion. It demands dignified response of the larger branches while the smaller twigs sway and tremble. I stand, braced in the wind, my shoulders hunched to gather a bit of warmth. I peer up and out into the landscape trying to see the wind. Can one actually see wind? I feel like I can. I feel like I can see the air compress itself and then fling outwards. If I look closely enough, I swear I can see a bunch of tiny debris particles in the air, dancing in the wind.
And I dance also. It is the only way I can keep warm. I take tiny steps forward and backwards, turn in circles, put my back to the wind and when my back gets cold and it feels like icy fingers are trailing down my spine, I turn and face the wind, my head tucked down into my coat.
The wind pushes and shoves items in its path, kicking up more debris. Perhaps it is the small bits and pieces, not seen by the naked eye, that gives wind its amorphous form. I imagine the forms that could be created by wind. There are ample spaces between the branches and the trunks of the leaves, each space a perfect momentary stencil for the wind.
How many of these stenciled shapes are out there, I wonder. Am I actually conjuring up an image of wind, or just the impact of wind.
I see swirling branches all around me and I swear that I can see the wind racing in and around the branches. I believe I can see the swirls that the wind is creating and then the whooshing out as the wind continues over the pasture and over the mountains.
Yes, wind is motion, but is it invisible? I think not. After today, I believe wind has form and shape.
Leslie Rego is an Idaho Press Club award-winning columnist, artist and Blaine County resident. To view more of Rego’s art, visit leslierego.com.
