It’s as if I haven’t heard wind in years. It’s as if I forgot wind existed. I am an animal for music. I shut out noises and shut in harmony. I tell myself to experiment with sounds. I tell myself I have put myself into myself. But all in all I forgot the feeling of wind. And I especially forgot the sound. Today it stormed for the first time in over half a year. The wind was pink, orange, and red from sand and dirt. It flew up from across Mingechevir village into the apartments closer to the city center. The dirt flew into my kitchen and into my food. It shocked me. I had never felt real wind in Mingechevir. I had never felt wind with any real force. And then rain trailed after in hot pursuit. The temperature dropped 20 F a matter of minutes. My home is cool for the first time in weeks. I should close the windows….they are creating havoc with my things. I should turn off my computer because the electricity is out. But I will not do either. The cool harsh wind is too precious and I must make a witness of something, a computer page.
I turned off the music and painted. I hear kids screaming in the yard. Today they are as loud as ever because the heat is not oppressive. It is the first break from heat we’ve experienced in far too long. And we must scream for it. We must let it know we want it to stay. And I’m content just to listen to the wind pass just as the same thoughts continually pass through my mind.