I can’t show you what the wind looks like. There are no leaves or long grasses bending in supplication to the wind to help me show you. I cannot take one picture that lets you feel the full force of a roaring westerly wind, a howling she- gale heaving itself across the prairies. It can literally knock you off your feet. Throwing dust in your face, kicking at your shins.And cackling. This wind cackles. 
And sometimes you feel your body becoming a sail and you are the little boat from when you were a kid and you are pushed backwards a little and lifted a little and you laugh like a grunt and the dogs look at you their coats all blown inside out and they wonder as you grab for a post and giggle.
I can tell you about the anxiety of walking to and fro under the big trees with their falling branches, in a 40 and 50 knot wind that howls, harangues, a harridan, rattling her bones in your ears as you hurry through. I can tell you about working in the barn and watching the big doors bow and rattle and shake. The noise like trains on broken tracks running along too fast as the wind plays with every loose board yanking and shoving at them, trying to rip the old barn doors apart piece by piece. Buckets flying down the lane. Sounds swiped. Guttering whining and shrieking out of harmony though precisely in beat with the halyard clang of the chains on the gates. Wind shrieking that if you tidied up this place once in a while there would not be so much stuff flying around. Stupid girl. 
The slam of doors shoved by the wind. Screen doors hurled against the house then sprung back open by Winds meddlesome daughters and slammed shut again and again. Wind smacking her fingers together with glee and clattering along on her broken glass feet. Chairs skidding right off the verandah and I pick them up and put them back because they are in the way and I must get on, only to pick them up again and put them back again. Wind pokes at me screeching insanity, insanity, into my ringing ears.
I can tell you about my hair whipped into a snarling rats nest. And the strange invigoration of pushing into the Westerly all day as I walk the triangle from garden to barn to kitchen begin pushed along by it half the time. I could tell you how all the clothes are hung into the verandah line to dry, if I hung them on the clothesline outside I would be collecting them from the ditch the next day yet on the verandah they are merely a tangled mess. I could even tell you of the frustration of cutting up all the vegetables for Poppy and Sheila the pigs only to see the same vegetables blowing out of their bowls as I carry them through the field – the chooks chasing after me, goosed by the wind, gleefully picking up the flying food, their feathers standing up like surrendering flags.
How to show you the wind. I can’t. But it was wild. I feel bad for the people whose bad winds twisted into tornadoes. At least we did not have that. Tornadoes we do not want. 
That wind blew like that for 24 hours. It rattled my scrambled brains. Then last night at exactly 7pm. It stopped. Just like that. Like a tap turning off or the clap of a respected teachers hands. Stopped. And suddenly everything was quiet again. Wind packed up her tricks and was gone, her daughters with her. And it was quiet again. Quiet.
Lady Aster is being the perfect milk cow so far, she stood in the milking shed like a .. well like a Lady and I milked her without any problem at all. She was scarcely bothered by me taking over her calf. Mooed a little then after the milking went out into the fields to bother the new grass. She needed the walk, it helps her heal. If this continues she will be a lovely milk cow. All I need is volume now.
Her tiny baby – Naomi – is drinking well and slowly gathering her strength. She is in the sunroom with the big South windows and slept her Second Day away between little feeds. Unbothered by the wind. (You know how particular I am about drafts).
Last night got cold again, but today should be a better day. Actually every day is a better day. Just different.
I hope YOU have a lovely day or at least find some loveliness in your day.
Your friend on the farm,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
55 responses to “What does wind look like?”
Reblogged this on indigotech007.
We’re having our share of wind today also. Apple and cherry blossoms flying about like midges. Good morning, c, and happy Saturday to the farmy!
I hate it when the blossoms blow off, hopefully the fruit is set? c
I love your description of the wind. It is a Force, and usually I love it (particularly during mud season when it needs to come through and dry things out). But it can also be a devastating Force. So glad it took its toys and moved on! We will have some today, but it must have blown itself out on its way east. Love your close-up goatie and Naomi photos!
I hope the wind has cleared all the winter cobwebs away allowing better warmer days through to help everyone to heal and grow. How is your hand, Celie?
My hand is back to normal, just a bit colourful looking. thank you grannymar.. c
I thought of the farmy when I heard of the devastation of yesterday’s tornadoes. I’m so glad it wasn’t worse where you are. Wind is a force I do not care for.
Our winds just roar. The really big ones sound like a train roaring up the glen, then BANG, an almost physical force hitting the end wall of the house. Today we have wind but it’s a very half hearted roar to this one.
Christine
P.S. Naomi is beautiful by the way!
That cackling wind is here also!
Hello Cecilia,
We had a day like that a couple of weeks ago. The sound of the wind clawing at the walls was terribly scary!
I am glad your wind did not twist itself into a tornado..stay safe C
You too sawson.. soon i will be making your yoghurt again.. c
Celia – you painted a most vivid word picture that perfectly captured what your camera could not. I felt quite buffeted about just reading it. And equally excited at the prospect of the quiet that followed. Beautiful prose.
Wonderful wind descriptions! It can be quite scary, and destructive. And so wonderful when it stops! So glad all is well on the farmy, and that Lady Astor is being so well mannered at milking times. That is fabulous!!!
I think that is the cutest calf I have ever seen! She looks a little shy, maybe she will be just lovely, like her mother.
So relieved the Farmy is still standing! The pictures on TV early this morning of tornado damage in NW Illinois were terrifying. Everything just flattened and spread miles away. Your descriptions had me pulling my hair back off my face 🙂 Wishing you peaceful, soft soaking rains for the fields. Laura
Oh how we curse the wind and battle against it. Your words were descriptive and it FELT like a howler – with brief gusts just to let you know it is capable of worse! But there is a strength and cleansing that comes with her too. It’s a bit like enduring the tough times and coming out in the calm, feeling renewed and tougher for the experience. One thing about the woodlands is we have “talking” trees – they groan and creak. It’s a bit of whining or perhaps gossip on a windy day. But oh, when the winds crank up those trees are complaining and singing the misery and woes of having to move about so much!
Today is perfect so maybe the wind did clear the air and hopefully stabilised the air currents so we can start to creep up into summer at last.
The wind has a white face with very puffed up cheeks and he blows through the trees and fields and grasses and building like a knife with a sharp edge..that is what I think he looks like
You are wrong this morning Miss C…you can and did show us what the wind looks like just as you brought us to the sudden silence and quiet as well. Lovely words 🙂 I am among the many who also worried about you and the Cast with all the violence shown on TV that the winds were causing so it is good to hear that you spent some time laughing and giggling with your visiting portion of the storm. Naomi is a sweet thing and hurrah for Lady A as she settles into her purpose and position on the farm.