ode to the wind

Thursday the first storm of this year hits The Netherlands. Winds up to 130 km/h along our coast are to be expected. I always love to drive out there and watch the wind hit the waves, crashing them over the pier. Somehow, I have always been a sucker for strong wind. A dream of mine is still to someday chase tornado’s Twister-style.

Wind often symbolizes change, out with the old in with the new. Unlike most people, I like change. Every so often I change the way our furniture is arranged in the living room, I change my hair or the side of the bed I sleep on. My love has learned to live with this quirk. However, like most people, I hate change that is not orchestrated by me.

Still, I love a good storm. It is not even because of the tranquility after a storm, which is almost as lovable. I really like the way the wind plays with my hair, hitting me unexpectedly, raging by me not caring about people or objects it encounters. If something is too fragile, it breaks and the wind caries it where it needs to go, having no choice in the matter. It is about letting go.

A heavy storm reminds me of the enormous power of nature and we should never forget to have a deep respect for her. Nature does what is needed, even if that means destruction. Everything is always changing and there is nothing we can do about it. Sometimes change comes slowly and almost unnoticed. Sometimes it hits you with 130 km/h. “A storm is coming (Mr. Wayne).”




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