Today the sun was bright. The clouds were bubbly cheerful. The trees rustled amongst themselves in the breeze, murmuring to one another in appreciation the way one murmurs amidst applause following a concerto.

I went for a walk today and found myself in a green space, somewhere between apartment complexes and a housing development, not far from a creek, around the corner, unseen from the path. I threw my arms wide and the breeze ran through my hair and blew it back from my forehead and it caressed my face and blew my clothes back against my body, then turned and gust in the other direction, at once swirling around me in a violent embrace. It berated me in the way of the invisible, whipping about myself, stirring around the land, kicking up the dust and dirt and throwing it around, altogether soft.

The gentle touch of a fingertip across my cheek, as if to brush a tear unformed, or perhaps dried from long ago.

When the dust cleared and the wind settled and the trees straightened, bringing their hands back to their laps and their heads cocked to attention once again, I opened my eyes and the sun made me squint, brought tears to my eyes and the birds in the distance like laughter. I breathed deep. Once in. Once out.

And when the wind returned again, I spun round and ran with it.