Wind Songs

We're having an extended March this year, right into mid-April, with wet, cold weather and high winds. I saw a bed of daffodils bent low to the ground by the wind last week, their little heads bobbing up and down like the heads of those articulated dogs that ride in the back windows of cars in some parts of this country.

When the wind is steady, it produces an exotic sound as it races through the ham radio antenna the Ex put up years ago; a low, throaty, almost melodic sound. Coupled with the antenna cable slapping against the side of the house, and the singing pipes of the wind chimes, the sounds remind me of Tibetan chanting, especially when punctuated by the gentle clacking of the bamboo chime at the back door. I like these wind songs.

I like Tibetan monks chanting, too. That thrumming, throaty, humming sound that seems to come from some hidden place, perhaps from within the caves of their hearts, or from the wells of their souls.