Wednesday, 6 February 2008

The Wind of Change


Recently, Todos Santos has been visited by a series of strange, cold winds. Heralded by wispy “Nike” shaped clouds that we used to call “Mare’s Tails” in the UK, they appear (and disappear) quickly, bring icy clarity, and change the bucolic nature of the seaside into something much more charged.

A Stranger Visits

Infused with the essence
Of dry snow-capped mountain peaks
In a far distant continent
The exotic wind swoops across the ocean
Slicing a razor cut horizon
To divide light from dark
Dusting the languid waves with white
In homage to its origin

Its arrival wakes nature from its torpor
Arousing into excited dance
Wavelets skitter across the lagoon
To the rhythm of sloppy breakers
Syncopated by slapping wing beats
Of a burly troupe of bathing pelicans
While graceful birds pirouette and glide
A silent accompaniment

Palms salute and wave at the visitor
In synchronous choreography
Fronds combing the air desperately
To savor the exotic flavor
Of unknown lands

But in town, the music dissipates
Locals go about their business
Unmoved
A swirl of dust
And jackets pulled tighter
The only signs of the strangeness
That just visited.

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