NOVEMBER 30, 2021 – In our front yard stand a clump of three birch trees that now tower over our house. When I planted them umpteen years ago, they were small enough to transport home by sticking them up through the open sunroof of our car.
I noticed recently that blustery weather had peeled off a six-inch swath of paper bark from one of the trees. Flapping in the breeze, the frayed ends reminded me of telltales on a mainsail.
Curious about Aeolus, I searched internet sites explaining how wind works (in brief—wind, like an intense personality, mythological or otherwise, is complicated). Before long, I was on another planet—Venus, then Mars (not Mercury, which has no atmosphere), Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, Neptune, and Uranus, where, wouldn’t you know it, cold winds (as opposed to hot air) can blow at 560 MPH.
A new neighbor of ours is a geologist by trade and training. I envy his knowledge of rocks, the oldest visible and most tangible aspect of our world. I recall one of our family trips to the Grand Canyon, where we stood on the South Rim and gazed at the strata of rocks, the bands of geologic time visible beneath the North Rim. Where else in the world, I wondered, can one see 4.5 billion years?
By contrast, consider the meteorologist who specializes in the workings of the wind; who studies the Coriolis effect and Aeolian landforms; who knows the wind zones (Polar Easterlies, Westerlies, Horse Latitudes, Trade winds, and the Doldrums); the scholar who researches the impact of wind on weather, climate, and ecology; the storm specialist who examines tornadoes, Atlantic hurricanes, Pacific typhoons, Indian Ocean cyclones, mid-latitude blizzards, lower-latitude monsoons.
The student of wind focuses on a force that can be felt but neither held nor kicked, neither placed in a bag (except in Greek mythology) nor displayed in a collection on a museum shelf. Only the effects of wind can be seen.
Then there’s the historian, who, taking a comprehensive view of things, would be familiar with the winds of history, such as the Kamikaze Wind that in 1281 wiped out the Mongolian Navy (!) before the Mongols could invade Japan, and the Protestant Wind, which destroyed the (Catholic) Spanish Armada charged with fighting (Protestant) England in 1588 and which blew westward across the English Channel in 1688, allowing (Protestant) William of Orange to defeat (Catholic) King James II of England.
Yesterday on our flight from Hartford to the Twin Cities, the captain warned of strong headwinds that might slow our westward progress. I paid his announcement little heed until I saw on the flight information screen, headwinds of 154 MPH. (I later looked up hurricane winds and learned that a Cat Six hurricane is 157 MPH.) “Holy Aeolus!” I announced to self. Heading straight into such a headwind was bound to delay our arrival. Yet, no turbulence accompanied the Cat Six headwind, not even where the captain had anticipated some—thermals above Lake Michigan.
Despite the westerly jet stream, our flight was a breeze.
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© 2021 by Eric Nilsson
