The Spirit of the Wind

Spirit of the Wind

Spirit of the Wind (Photo credit: CRFish)

The cabin was still a bit warm and stuffy from the hot afternoon so she opened one of the small porthole-windows above the table.  The seals separated with a sucking noise and a cool, fragrant breeze drifted in across Ashby’s face and swirled around her head.  She closed her eyes and savored it’s light touch caressing her neck and moving down and around her body.  Opening her eyes, she watched as the breeze moved in oily colors around the cabin dancing and changing hues with the candle flames.  Shimmering a deep blue it paused above the map and gently lifted shades of greens, yellows, golds and blues from the paper.  Letters and words lifted to swirl with the colors and this playful breeze seemed to twist with delight.

Ashby flopped onto one of the benches next to the table with a great huff and watched eagerly as the breeze continued nosing around the cabin like a curious cat.  Finally it swirled around her head with soft fluttering sounds then went to the cabin door.  She watched with dazzled eyes as it painted a starry night in the doorway then in a swirling of energy the star-flecked night materialize into a boy.  He sat peacefully in the cabin doorway smiling, his teeth as bright as the moon.  His glowing presence evoked a memory and a sense of deja vu.

“Who are you?”


“You’re the Spirit of the Wind, aren’t you?”  Said Ashby, speaking for him.

“Um, if that makes you happy, then that’s who I am,” he said with a sly grin.

“Every sailboat calls the Spirit of the Wind,” she said.  “Serenity called you here.  And yes, that makes me happy.”

“Okay, so I’m the Spirit of the Wind,” agreed the boy.

“I can see right through you.”

“I can see right through you too,” he said with a giggle.

“You’re funny,” added Ashby, feeling his breath of giddiness on her cheeks.

“I’m always here but this is the first time you’ve been able to see me,” said the boy.  He seemed amused and there was a wickedness about him that excited and unsettled Ashby.

“Why can’t I see the wind?”

“You can always see me and feel me when I’m around, but most people never take the time.  Most people only know me as a ripple on the water, or the fluttering of leaves, or as a gentle caress on their neck, or sometimes as a blast of breath in their face.”  He puffed up his cheeks and blew a mighty gust at Ashby.  It blew her hair back and swirled about the cabin whistling through every nook and upsetting papers until it found it’s way out the cabin door.  Ashby followed it with her eyes, dreaming wildly.

“It’s wonderful, I want to eat you up,” she squealed, unable to contain the joy of the experience.  “I feel like I can taste the wind.  This is wild.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun, but don’t try to eat me,” teased the boy. “Hey Ashby, you wanna go flying with me.”

3 thoughts on “The Spirit of the Wind

    • Russ, Thanks for the comments. The Spirit of the Wind is a trickster, he likes to have fun and he often messes things up for other people when he plays his games. I’ll share the whole chapter – over the next few posts.

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