... some will inherit only the wind
A gentle breeze blew through an open window as I sat at my table this
morning while having my ritualistic second cup of coffee, or was it my
third? A soft and cooling wind that would soon give up the right of way
to a hot summer one, later in the day. At that particular caffeine-induced
moment, a thought came to mind about how a seemingly simple element,
such as the wind, can affect a myriad of events and a multitude of people.
How the night before, while watching a baseball game on television, a strong
wind blew a fly ball out of the reach of the home team's outfielder, resulting
in a subsequent loss and in effect sending some forty-thousand people home in
disappointment. Forty-thousand frowns in place of smiles. Inexplicably due to
a hostile wind of fate.
Conversely, while strolling down the street the other morning, I noticed several
neighborhood children attempting to put their brightly colored kite to flight. However,
due to a lack of a breeze, it insisted on falling to the ground. Suddenly, a sufficient
enough wind arose and lifted the reluctant phoenix to the sky, resulting in a burst of
youthful glee and smiles of achievement. A welcome wind of delight.
And as our day of Independence arrives each year, that inimitable Fourth of July, can
one not take pride, and see those star-spangled flags waving in such a patriotic wind. Where
every Main Street U.S.A. parade has the proud veterans of World War II, Korea, and
Viet Nam, marching in cadence to drum and bugle. with medals of valor on each chest. A
stark reminder of the winds of war.
And what of the winds of appeasement that enabled a mad man, endowed with
little more than bloated rhetoric and hollow jingoisms, to be propelled to power. Did not
anyone hear that tree fall in the black forest? Surely there were many around to hear
it - and did nothing. Can those winds of apathy ever be mitigated? Not a chance. Ask
those who crawled out of Treblinka and Bergen Belsen, disfigured in mind and body by the
apocalyptic winds of horror and injustice.
On a lighter note, how can we not leave the whirlwind of love out of this equation? The
perfumed wind of Aphrodite, which renders young men clueless and helpless at the
appearance of a beautiful young girl on a beach or boulevard, prompting them to dance like
a butterfly, soar as an eagle, or sing an aria out of tune in the shower.
Now after reading all of this, you may be asking, who is this bag of wind? Or you may be
one of those that don't care which way the wind blows. It all depends on how each of you
interprets any of this. One thing may always be certain. If you ride the wind of truth, your
house will always be in order. And for those who bring trouble to their own
house, "they will inherit the wind."
April 1, 2016