Wind

We are ‘wind-determined’ in ways unrecognized. A wind-centric social history could quite convincingly explain how our ecosystems, patterns of settlement, architectures, economic and political arrangements, even emotional sensibilities and nervous dispositions operate in line with the wind. But intermittent in appearance and with no precise beginning or end, wind is elusive and withholds from our attempts at making it legible. Instead, the wind ‘writes’ in its own way. The mottles and ripples on the surface of a wind-swept sandy beach, a crenulated dune or contorted coasted tree confirm its communicative capacity. An aeolian language or aesthetics signalled through its effect on other things. This signifying regime is something that humans have persistently deigned to commune with, mimic and translate. Indeed, we seem compelled to divine meanings from the wind. We freight it with stories about where we come from, and how we belong.