Spring wind

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist
 
I lay awake, not quite ready to get up. I could feel a cool morning breeze blowing in through the loft window. Wind through the window … is that why we call them windows, to let the spring wind inside?

The morning wind kept blowing. It blew blades of straw out of my hands as I carried it over to spread under the rabbit hutch. The straw lay golden on the new spring grass. The soft green of the upper field looked so lovely, but Greg had it on his list of chores to sharpen the mower blades on our zero turn mowers. I made a mental note to myself. I'd better pick the dandelions early in the day if I planned to make a batch of spring dandelion wine. I inquired. Greg said he would be working in his shop all day. The dandelions could wait until tomorrow.

The wind blew the hair across my forehead as I headed back to the cabin after tending to the animals. I could hear the wind charger blades spinning. Their hum reminded me that the batteries were are charging, and the sun was also shining bright. It would be a good morning to catch up on laundry. The first load done, I hung it up on the chain that runs under the front porch eves. I always arrange the clothes in color coordinated order, just in case anyone decides to stop by. They blow in the wind like a line of many-colored flags. They will be dry in no time. 

I headed down to my raised bed tire garden to weed and ready the dirt for planting. I made the decision that this year I will only plant in my raised beds, no long rows of herbs and vegetables, just smaller containers of my favorite crops. We have other matters that call for our attention this spring, so I decided to simplify my creek valley life. Our sweet dog dutifully followed my every move. The wind blew her ears back from her face and blew my wispy hair into my eyes. I paused to look out across the fields and saw turkey vultures riding the wind and circling over the creek valley.

Greg was still working on the mower blades when a neighbor stopped by. I could see the wind blowing Greg's hair as he stood in his shop door. They spoke a while and then I watched as Greg walked into his shop and pulled out an old kite that we’ve had for years but have never flown. I watched the two men. I wondered what they were up to.

I stayed put, working on weeding a tire, and listened to the two men, laughing and calling to each other as they walked out into the field to fly the kite. One stood down-wind and held the kite. The other stood up-wind with the spooled string. 

At just the right moment the down-wind fellow threw the kite high into the air. The other fellow pulled the string just so, and the kite took off, zigging and zagging higher into the sky until the wind died down and the kite fell back to the field. They traded places and again and again the kite flew. The two grown men had become boys. I smiled to watch the transformation. I stayed still. The vultures soared. The kite flew. Life could not have been any better. 

Finally, I stood, put away my tools, and headed back up the hill to the cabin. I took down the laundry, perfectly dried by the wind. I folded everything on the outside table, pausing every so often to sink my nose deep into the true freshness of clothes dried in the wind and sun. By the time I was done, our neighbor was pulling out of our driveway and heading back up the creek road. I could see Greg closing his shop doors.

The sun was passing over the hill behind the cabin. I could hear the creek running through the valley on its way south to the river. I heard the birds calling up on the hill. Evening was settling in, and I suddenly realized that the wind had stopped, or perhaps it had just itself blown away.   

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.