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ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
I am a working mother and wife. I enjoy writing to capture the essence of special moments that could so easily escape from memory. I have never published any writings and this is my first submission for public viewing. [May 2000]
Wind Dance Traci McCoy
Melancholy moods are always welcomed into my world. It seems it takes those moods for me to appreciate the wonder of nature and being human. It was a Sunday evening in early spring and the past week had been full of activity and thought. In my busy, often over-filled life, there are so many tasks to be done and things to think about. The way my mind seems to race sometimes leads to sheer exhaustion. I had been busy with housekeeping projects the entire day. I had gotten through the checkbook � balanced at last! I had stripped the beds and cleaned the bathrooms. I had played ball outside with the kids and the dog. I also took the time to listen to music and play on the computer. The day had gone well, but yet I was exhausted from the entire week.
It was after 11:30 p.m. when the ultimately boring Oscars had finally ended. I laid in the dark and searched for sleep for over an hour. My friend, sleep, was refusing to come and play with me. How dare she desert me when I needed her? I lifted my heavy body and mind from the bed, slipped on a robe and went to fix a cup of tea. The weather that day had been fairly warm for the time of year but with a strong cool wind. There had been multiple windows open throughout the house until dusk and I could still feel the chill of the breeze that permeated each room. As usual, I was acutely aware of the feel of the cold tile on my bare feet. I so love the contrast of a warm body on cool surfaces.
I sweetened my tea with honey and stepped outside. The wind, always a true friend of mine, was near fierce. I could hear her wrestling with trees and trashcans. She most certainly had her mind set that I would not be smoking. Her gusts were too strong and would make it impossible to enjoy. I wasn�t up to wrestling with her and felt rather submissive; therefore I did not attempt to light up. It was difficult enough to hold onto my cup and hold my robe closed. I placed my cup onto the banister of the deck and faced into the cold wind. With my eyes closed I tried to take slow deep breaths. As I opened my mouth to take a breath the wind seem to funnel straight into my lungs at an accelerated rate almost causing me to choke. I really wanted to avoid a wrestling match that evening. I was looking for connection and like sleep, the wind was being resistant and subversive. I closed my eyes again and this time I closed my mouth as well. I opened my robe, kicked my head back and stretched out my arms, as if to say, "I surrender to your childish perseverance."
My friend came home and began to dance with me. The strong breeze felt like soft cool hands brushing my hair back far from my face. My neck was completely exposed and I thought of what a position of trust I was standing in. I trusted my friend, the wind, enough to expose my naked body and my jugular at the same time. I started to breathe easily, slowly and deeply. There wasn�t resistance this time but almost a guidance of rhythm. I focused on the feel of the chilling blasts of air on my body. Except for the bottoms of my feet, every inch of skin was being delightfully massaged with the swirls of cool air. My robe was performing some kind of ancient wild tribal dance behind me and at times I felt violent tugs that nearly pulled me over. Oddly, I think it was those violent tugs that kept me just inside consciousness so that I didn�t fall over. How I wished, at the moment, that I could fly on those air currents.
I must have stood there for fifteen minutes. When I finally opened my eyes, I was dizzy and felt uncoordinated. I closed my robe and took my cold tea inside. I spread out on the floor with pillows and listened to soft music play. I smiled as I lay there, thinking how lucky I am to have such a friend. A friend who will resist me only to ensure the dance will be more than just a dance. She not only danced with me, she held me, she caressed me and she loved me. Sleep was jealous and regretful for having deserted me and came running to make it up to me. I did not awake until the sun started to shine through the living room window. I felt extremely rested.
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