How does the weather affect us? This is a splendid history of writers’ and painters’ reflections on the wind, rain and sun
I learned this poem by Christina Rossetti when I was a very small child. I thought about it a lot. It was maybe my first thinking about weather in general. The wind was a force with its own ways, and it could not be seen or controlled. It was there, and we did not know who or what it was. It was a real being, unlike elves or goblins or mermaids. My head was full of images of trees and leaves and movement. It made me oddly happy.
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