Catch the Wind
by Kai Strand
If I could catch the wind, I’d climb so high in the air icicles would form on my fingertips and frost would coat my hair. I’d gather cold breezes in a large parachute and drag them to the Sahara Desert. I’d unfurl the chute and release the zephyrs to cool overheated skin and tousle camels’ fur. The people would spread their arms and race around like airplanes. I’d shift and mold the sand dunes until I created a perfect sand castle large enough for children to climb all over.
If I could catch the wind, I’d scrape the snow from atop the tallest mountains and sprinkle it onto the barren lands of Africa. People would tip their heads back and catch snowflakes on their tongues. I’d pack long dry wells like snow cones so after it melts, villagers could draw buckets full of water. I’d hydrate parched crops until no one in the country was left hungry.
If I could catch the wind, I’d dip into lush forests to fly alongside the fastest rabbit. Together we would zig and zag around tree trunks, leap over ferns, and duck under branches. I’d stir up fallen leaves, releasing the scent of forest decay and pine needles in my wake. I’d ruffle the feathers of roosting owls until they hoot at me to go away.
If I could catch the wind, I’d howl into dark caves, rushing as fast as a river and whistling as loud as a train. I’d tease the bats hanging from the rock ceiling until they were forced to swarm into the night sky. I’d trip my way through the inky black, wrapping around stalactites and splashing through underground pools. Then I’d whoosh through a crack to the earth’s surface and back into open air.
If I could catch the wind, I’d spend an entire day at the park. I’d swirl slowly around picnickers, pushing stray hairs into their mouths along with each bite of fried chicken. I’d create a game of chase, tumbling a napkin across the lawn. I’d weave through spicy-scented rosebushes and dance with the daisies. I’d lift a Frisbee just out of reach of its captor and gently push the children on swings.
If I could catch the wind, I’d drive the rain into the cities at night so children could play outside during the day. I’d carry their laughter to the ears of the lonely and strains of sweet music to those of the hopeless. I’d sneak under doorways and down hospital hallways into each child’s room. I’d blow down the back of the nurse’s shirt until she makes a noise like a squeak toy and elicits a snicker from her patient. I’d caress, ever so gently, the cheeks of the fevered until they rested soundly.
If I could catch the wind, I’d catch the sail of the bravest adventurers and whisk them to uncharted islands. I’d blow high at night so as not to put out their fire. I’d blow low in the morning to dry their freshly laundered clothes. I’d jostle palm fronds until coconuts plunked on the ground. When they were ready to leave, I’d fill their sails again and carry them to their next escapade.
If I could catch the wind, I’d search the world over until I found the last remaining dragon. I’d furrow under its wings until it unfurled them to their full length. I’d tickle the beast into motion until it raised its serpentine body into the sky like a snake slithering through tall grass. When people stop to gape, I’d rush into their open mouths to waggle their uvulas. I’d snuff any flames the creature blazed toward a village and form an obstacle course in the clouds.
If I could catch the wind, I’d wrap you in a fuzzy, warm blanket and rock you to and fro until your eyelids grow heavy. I’d rustle the leaves of trees until they whispered a nighttime sentiment. I’d stir the wind chimes into a quiet pinging, tinging lullaby. I’d be balmy and soft and full of all the love I have for you.
If I could catch the wind, I’d catch and tame it just for you.