Listening to the wind

dinton-0331Sleepless, I lay listening to the wind, wondering what it whispered and whence it came. It moved around the house, insinuating itself through the half open window, stealing across the bed to rattle the door; a silent intruder.

Where had it come from… where does it begin? Where will it expire in a final sigh? What had its blind breath seen since its birth and what secrets would it carry to its ending. How far, how long had it come before it touched my face? Perhaps it had caressed the cheek of a stranger before me, or a love far away or even a long-ago almost forgotten. Did it carry the whisper of a name within its heart, longed for in the dark? The murmuring of lovers, of the sobs of silent grief? How many stories does it know and is its voice made of whispers or the prayers of a child?

How many breaths does it take to make the wind? And who is breathing? Is it the breath of earth or the sighing of dragons that bends the grass and plucks the petals from the cherry trees, showering children with spring’s confetti? Is it born of the butterfly or the wings of birds in the morning?

It carries the perfume of a thousand roses and the taint of as many deaths, it holds life from beginning to end with insubstantial arms, gathering all into itself, becoming one with it, echoing it in its moods. In winter it howls… vulpine and feral, tearing at brittle fingers of dying wood, stripping away the effete. Scavenger of the gods, picking clean the skeletal remains of autumn.

In summer it is a welcome caress, laughing softly in the canopy of dancing light, waltzing with dust devils in the sunshine, cooling the blushing cheeks of a first love, or the tears of a last. As the trees turn golden and weep for summer’s end it breathes upon the gravestones, revealing forgotten names and iridescent beetles, piling leaves for childlike feet to play in.

Does it ever stop, or only sleep, resting awhile in a quiet valley? Does it carry the wish of the heart in its own? Or do we inspire its inspiration?

Or is it just the ghost of a dream…

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email:
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45 Responses to Listening to the wind

  1. Beautiful the way you penned


  2. daisybala says:

    Awesome writing Sue!!


  3. Darlene says:

    You have such a way with words, Sue. Thanks.


  4. Sadje says:

    Midnight musings. Lovely.


  5. Beautiful. Thank you, Sue. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  6. anita dawes says:

    I have never thought of wind in quite that way, Sue. Especially the kind we had the other night. It sounded like a train roaring past my window…


  7. Pingback: Listening to the wind — Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo – yazım'yazgısı (typography)

  8. Mary Smith says:

    Lovely writing, Sue. I always feel if we listen closely enough we’ll hear the stories it is telling.


  9. fransiweinstein says:

    That’s lovely Sue.


  10. Beautiful reflection and musing on the wind, Sue. At least when you lie awake, your time is well spent. ❤


  11. willowdot21 says:

    The willo the wisp?


  12. V.M.Sang says:

    That is beautiful, Sue.


  13. Eliza Waters says:

    Beautifully penned, Sue, a pleasure to read. Thank you!


  14. Breathtakingly beautiful words and photo, Sue… ❤


  15. dgkaye says:

    Stunning prose Sue. ❤


  16. Widdershins says:

    Hail, o Wind, and salutations. 🙂


  17. Bela Johnson says:

    Interesting take on our beloved kamakani. 🙏💜


  18. Have you read Emily if New Moon by LM Montgomery, Sue? This piece reminds me of her wind woman. Very lovely and apt.


  19. macjam47 says:

    Beautiful musing on the wind, Sue! I’ve never contemplated the wind in this way. ❤️


  20. Jennie says:

    I just love how you write your thoughts, Sue.


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