THE WINDS WITH WONDER WHIST

Wolf winds howl and swirl around the house all night. I wake constantly to the susurrus of the trees whipping restlessly to and fro. In the late morning the winds are still high and they howl in the ventilation shafts. Once in a while the house seems to shudder. I lie in bed and watch crows struggle to fly into the wind. Aerial acrobatics are dashing but futile and they grab for a passing branch to rest a moment before daring flight once more. A magpie skiphops across the yard, blown backwards one step for every three forward until he...