For the third week in a row, I am indulging an autumn writing whim that draws me to the theme of the wind, and how it punctuates this time of year. This time, I heard it in the guitar part I was playing. This song is a patient and cyclical in the same way that the wind kicks up and dies down, only to repeat and repeat. I wrote about inhabiting the wind, about being inside of it, about being out in it, about coming to expect it. There is little we can do about the wind and the rain, so we may as well befriend them.
lyrics
The morning comes
Like a friend to the wind and the rain
You can counter the noise in the street
But your bluster is more of the same
You could pick every moment apart
But it won't change anything
You can take every instant to task
But it won't change anything
You can bet on the wind and the rain
Set out on your feet
It's the only place you belong
And the miles and miles you tread
Through the weather like nothing is wrong
You could pick every moment apart
But it won't change anything
You can take every instant to task
But it won't change anything
You can bet on the wind and the rain.