It was just always there. Like green beans on your plate. You might notice but it's really no big deal.
We'd play with it, the Wind.
Makin' paper boats and sailin' 'em down puddles we connected with trenches using pieces of wood for shovels.
Trying the trick of flipping your coat back-out-up-&-around to make the Sail as you jumped into the air for a flight that was short even by Wilbur and Orville's standards.
Then, only the bravest (and dumbest) tried making the Sail on a bike. What a feeling! Gliding majestically for those few feet before the crash.
Almost made it worth it.
I look out the window this morning. The red pines by Grandma Alice's are actually rippling along the tops. Usually they wave in unison.
Now it's like a line of 60 foot Rockettes. In a chlorophyll-kinda way.
I sit complacently inside with the Elixir and the Chair, an observer and passive spectator to the kinetic landscape outside.
Huh.
When did I turn into such a wimp?
I get my coat from the backroom and practice the Sail move.
Back. Out. Up. & Around.
I realize I still have half of the moves. The Back and the Out.
The Up & Around ain't happenin'.
I zip up the coat and grab a baseball cap.
I may not be as fast as I once was, but I can still chase a hat down a windy street with the best of 'em.
I tug the cap down even further as I walk out the door.
C'mon, old friend.
Let's play.