And She Moves.

The lilies of the field dance and applaud the arrival of the wind.

The wind greets the lilies with the most perfectly timed, perfectly arranged schwoop over their heads and around their leaves and stems, each lily’s heart racing to this adventurous hello. As surprised and startled as the lilies are, they welcome this delightful disruption to their routine as they bend each and every way, giggling with glee.

Finally, the lilies theatrically lean toward the sun, and produce their final bow after this most pristine and sophisticated performance, all enhanced by the wind,

the Helper

the Mover 

the Greeter. 

The sun thanks the lilies with a little extra warmth and glow, something special for their morning.

The wind is the extrovert of the crew- brushing by like a glance from someone you love across the room at a party. But then she moves along to greet the grass or the branches of the trees or the hair of the pedestrians, always giving them a gasp and a desperate need to control their appearance. Hands move like lightening to their heads as they try to contain strings of hair behind their ears. Then they smooth out their hair like a worried mother ironing away at her child’s shirt seconds before he runs out the door to catch the school bus.

The wind never stays for an extensive or elaborate conversation, yet she never fails to say hello. She moves her hips from side to side, just gliding and floating around like a 7 year old boy in the kitchen with his socks on, sliding his feet in his silent, sneaky way.

The wind is the life of the party, the center of the Soul Train at all the wedding receptions. You never know how long she willl stay or who she will greet next, but she will be there nonetheless. 

She loves to twirl around in circles and make herself known. 

Sometimes she’s quiet, but she’s always moving, always dancing.