Wind

Storm clouds were rolling in this weekend as we prepared to leave Dodge City. The rumble of thunder sounds different on the plains. I have so many memories of stepping outside as a child to watch and listen to the storms as they passed over. I miss it the way the rain announced itself on the winds in advance. Sometimes the sound of thunder made it seem as if the storm clouds were marching forward, darkening our big sky with their presence.

I spent the weekend with the winds of western Kansas and I embraced every minute of it, even though the dust and severe drought made me a little sad. I was able to sleep with the windows open, the winds were strong enough and cool enough to pass right into the house and create the perfect climate for sleeping in the upstairs bedroom of the farmhouse I was raised in.

My dad told me a story about going to Germany when he was in the army in 1954. "It was hot in Germany," he said. "We spent every day sweating and I was so homesick. Then one day the wind came up and the sweat dried. I didn't have any problem being homesick after that. You never realize how much you miss the wind until you don't have it."