The Wind

The gale abated and a gentle warm breeze replaced it, stroking her face.

She looked behind her at the wall. It was still too close for comfort so she walked, slow and steady to save energy, towards the forest on the horizon.

Some days she'd come close enough to smell the pine needles, hear the birds singing.

She loved the light dancing upon the forest floor as the sun jiggled through the maze of leaves and branches, like a game of catch-me-if-you-can. Some leaves glowed while others hid in darkness. The ground beneath her feet was softer, scattered with fallen leaves. Scattered randomly, tiny seedlings germinated and reached towards the sun, hoping to be part of the forest as well one day. To grow strong and tall, nurture and protect other living creatures.

Once, having reached where the soil was richer, she'd quickly bent down as the wind screamed at her again, grabbed a handful of leaves and stuffed them into her pocket, to remind her she'd gotten this far. She would eventually get to the safety of the trees, because there wasn't a choice.

The wind picked up again. The sky deepened and lowered dark angry clouds towards her, ready to attack. Above them the sun held tightly onto its blue gown and caressed her tired body, as if to give her strength to fight the approaching storm.

She was halfway between the wall and the forest. The wall stood tall and long. Menacing, dark stone with no green moss to soften its rough surface. She doubted even insects found safety amongst its crevasses. It looked lifeless, dead.

Deadly.

She saw how the shards of broken glass, like shattered dreams, embedded in its surface glinted in the sunlight - and she shuddered.

But the wind hadn't beaten her, and as much as it tried couldn't throw her against the wall to impale and tear into her flesh, making her a prisoner of all things past. She was going to win.

She was learning how to defeat and also be with the force of the wind. It only blew her towards the jagged wall, so somehow they must be connected.

She knew when it was too strong to run against it. She'd tried though, head lowered, forcing herself and pushing against the gusts, but it picked her up and threw her tumbling even closer to the wall, until she managed to stop herself by clawing at the hard ground. Turning slowly, crawling and facing its roar, flattening herself on the rocky ground, she knew when to lie still, calm herself with deep slow breaths and wait it out.

It was blowing hard, but not enough to stop her. She braced herself and ran, ran like the wind. She grew stronger from running.

As if the wind recognised her defiance it roared louder, tearing at her clothes, trying to tangle its fists into her hair. But she knew its weakness now, and felt when it needed to pause to refill its powerful, invisible lungs. She knew when to run, and when to lie low.

Closer now.

Close enough to see the texture of bark on the nearest trees. A squirrel stood on a branch, watching. Birdsong stopped and the forest waited for her. She lay on the ground, soft beneath her tired body. The wind blew itself out with an angry wail, and one last sigh.

Like it knew it wouldn't win. It couldn't win.

Because she wouldn't let it.

The forest held its breath, ready to welcome, protect and nourish her.

This time when she stood up, nothing would stop her.

She ran, and invisible hands lifted and carried her the last few yards to the safety of the trees. The wind screamed seeing her escape, even the leaves on the trees shuddered in fear and for a moment she thought it would reach in with furious fangs, grab and pull her back. Its angry howl was stronger than she'd experienced before.

She'd done it, and threw her arms around the trunk of the nearest tree, new buds adding the promise of new life, on the tips of its branches.

She was safe, and looked back towards the jagged wall. It would always be there. But the wind no longer had the power to pull her back onto its cold, unforgiving surface.