We've had one of the windiest springs I've ever experienced.
You know the kind of wind that howls.
That's almost seems personified.
The kind that disrupts.
Yet somehow produces awe and wonder in it's power.
I imagine those birds that fly in spite of the wind, they don't fight it, instead they do the natural thing and let the wind take them.
Not always easy.
And perhaps sometimes, growing tired against the current.
But they trust the wind to move them.
And the winds blows...
And when it's quieted.
When the gusts have ended.
They soar, still.
Because they have let the wind guide them.
And now that it has quieted, there is....
"Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom." (and awe, and wonder, and disruption, and lack of control, and unexpected adventure)