Yesterday the wind in New Mexico whipped and lashed upon us relentlessly. I drove down from Albuquerque in it pushing hard against it while it kicked in the opposite direction that my Beetle was traveling. I was rushing home to meet guests soon to arrive. The car's aerodynamic shape meant little to it as I watched the fuel dial move from full to less. It was frustrating and I came home cranky. When I got here Mikey was cranky too, from the wind. Everyone I talked to since yesterday has been cranky. "The wind!" they said. "I know!" I replied.
This morning we woke and took Sesame on a walk to the river as we always do. The wind was calmer but not gone. A small man with a plump face and open eyes appeared as if waiting for us. "How are you?" he said, "The wind, its crazy!" I said as I hoped he was not a local drunk. We got close enough that I could see his dark skin and toothless smile full of sweetness as though he had a secret he could hardly hold back. "We need the wind," he said "It's cleaning. It blows the germs out of the crevices. After it there will be clear sky. My people know these things." The Apache man then turned so that he stood with his back to the rising east sun. He leaned into his walking stick and told us many things about the earth, life, the wind, and people. All of my anxiety about the wind fell away and all that was left was my memory of el duende, "the wind that blows the soul into the faces of listeners."
Posted by Wendy Jehanara Tremayne at Tuesday, March 22, 2011