It's been windy the last couple of days, and that has kicked up my allergies pretty good. Especially my eyes and my lungs. The rest of it isn't as bad right now.
I had this whole post working in my head about how I hate the wind.
I try to avoid hating things that are part of nature, because I know it's all good and essential. Even wind has its purpose, really. There are also so many types of wind. There's winter storm wind, which is gusty and cold and pushy and often wet. There's spring wind, which we have now, which tends to be steady and brisk, often on warmer days, and brings lots and lots of pollen. There is the fall wind, which is rustly and howly and often smells of the first fires of the season (fireplace fires, that is). Of course, there's summer wind, too. Frequently hot and dry north wind, brutal to sinuses well past allergy season.
North winds by far are the worst of all varieties. I have no idea what it is about them, but they wreak absolute havoc on sinuses and allergies.
I hate wind. I do. At best it makes me cold and musses my hair and tries to steal things from me. At worst it makes me puffy and goopy and gross and has, in the past, congested my lungs to the point where breathing was labored and painful.
But then I realized something.
Every break for the last few days, I've gotten to spend some time watching our friends, who have returned this year.
There is a mated pair of Swainson's Hawks that makes a nest in the trees right next to our building. They've returned this year. I'm not sure when, but I've noticed them in the past two weeks or so. They've been having it out with some other birds. At first, I thought it was the ravens. Looking up at them today, though, I'm not so sure. I think it might be some smaller type of hawk or maybe falcon.
Anyway.. So this afternoon, after I'd spent a number of breaks standing in the wind and cursing it under my breath, I spent some time watching the birds. Chasing each other, dive bombing and just floating on the air currents. The wind currents were so strong that they just hung in the air. Or they'd dip their wings and dive, turn, move.
It was beautiful. Like poetry. And I can think of no better way to spend break than standing there in the wind and watching these beautiful birds.
So I guess the wind isn't so bad, after all.