Windy Day Imagination

Today was windy.  Incredibly, incredibly windy.  I’m talking about the kind of wind that Brave Irene faced.  We went out for the morning, together as a family, and I cursed the wind.  I walked with my head bowed, barreling toward my destination, never stopping to look up.  My earrings flapped in the wind, the noise echoed in my ears.  Katie’s little hand was tucked inside mine and I practically dragged her along in my effort to get out of the wind.  I couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to stay outdoors on such a windy day.


We arrived home and after a quick dash from the car to the door, I stopped briefly by the kitchen window.  Katie was glued to my side but I realized the house was remarkably quiet.  The boys had all chosen to remain outside, despite the wind.  They howled with laughter as they chased each other around the yard.  Before too long, Joey and William were parked on the swings, straining their muscles against the force of the wind, heads tilted back, faces turned upward catching glimpses of the sun through the branches of the tree.


And Andrew?  Well, Andrew discovered the result of a windy day.  Branches and twigs galore.  I watched as he sorted through the branches, wielding one after another, testing the feel of each one in his hand.  I watched as he swung each branch, cutting through the air, imagining himself as a knight, battling a dragon.  His face carried his expressions as he drew within, fired solely in his internal world by his roaring imagination.


I stood and watched.  Just watched.  For moments of that windy day, I, too, was captured by Andrew’s windy day imagination.  My world stood still as I saw the windy day through his eyes.  His intentional moment was captured in his expressions, in the way the branch swung through the air, in his moment of glory when the dragon had been slayed.


I thought about all the windy days in my life.  The days when I walk, head bowed, barreling on, too caught up in a minor annoyance to stop and see the opportunity of the day.  I want to be like Andrew.  I want to face the windy days with the attitude of promise, the joy of intention.



One thought on “Windy Day Imagination

  1. I love little Andrew for his great ability to live in the moment and with his imagination. I think that he of all the grandchildren is the happiest when you give him nothing at all and he sees life alive in that. I too wish that i were like him but we all can’t be the same. I have to barrel through the wind or I can;t breathe. I could just picture myself being you and Katie but a long time ago when we lived in Seattle and I had to get 2 little girls through the freezing temperatures and wind to where we were going.
    Love you all,


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