Author: Edward Guenther
Written: January 15th, 2014

Aunt Crystal loved the blustery days on McDowell Creek.  The dandelion fluffs would blow through the air, searching for soil to take root in.  The meadow grasses waved to her.  The branches and leaves of the forest trails welcomed her.  The tree tops traced their fingered tops across the blue sky.

In February of 2002, a mighty wind storm blew through the narrow creek valley, uprooting old growth firs and tearing branches from trees!  Aunt Crystal marveled at the silent power of the wind.  One day when she was 7, as she watched the wonder of this silent power, she was inspired to write:

The wind is cold.

Sometimes it blows down trees.

Wind is clear

So you cannot see it,

But you can hear

And feel it!

Aunt Crystal continued to frolic and play in the wind.  She liked the wind.  She flew kites and watched as fluffy white clouds rolled by.  Sometimes a flurry of dust would blow into her eyes and she would blink.  Some days there was no wind, other days the wind came as a gentle breeze.  Still other days would bring great gusts!  What makes wind  Crystal wondered.