Some Blustery Days

Of late, I have begun to fear that I am lamentably lacking in original thought. While this is not unusual for one oflittlebrain , I have begun to wonder. "Is this all there is to me?" You know, sorta like that old Peggy Lee song?
A continuous stream of cliches, as well as quotations from songs, books, movies, and advertisements, plays as the background music for my daily life.

I'm like Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory. When he attempts to articulate his love for Julia Roberts he receives a pitying look. "Jerry," she says, " those are song lyrics."
"I know," he says miserably, "I know." It's all he can come up with at the moment.

So, of course, as a cold blustery wind swept in to batter the trees, ruffle the chicken feathers and drive the pot bellies into their house to cuddle up and wait it out, I was thinking in quotes. First I always think of my Grandmother who was herself quoting from some book she fancied and I never knew the name of. When ever the wind howled eerily about the eves of her old Nebraska farm house, she would pronounce in a fiercely theatrical way, "Listen to the wind Mrs. Cottle!"
Here I am, sixty-five years later still hearing her voice every time the wind wails about the house.

My friend Granny J of Walking Prescott and I have been talking about poetry lately and remembering bits and pieces of old poems. (Sometimes we need a little help from our friend Avus of Little Corner of the Earth to keep our history straight.) Here's the windy day poem that blows through my mind......... Do you remember it too?

The Wind

I saw you toss the kites on high,

And blow the birds about the sky:

And all around I heard you pass,

Like ladies' skirts across the grass--

O wind a-blowing all day long,

O wind that sings so loud a song!

Robert Lewis Stevenson