yesterday was quite windy.  no one was around.  and it was warm out, and the wind was so enticing.  so i went outside into one of the fields and sat down.  right in the middle.  the sky was gray and there was a thunderstorm warning.  i watched the clouds.  they moved so fast.  i looked over the fields towards my house and saw the barn, a row a pine trees, and a fence.  i thought to myself that it would make a lovely impressionistic painting.  i thought about the colours i would use.  the tools.  the technique.  i imagined painting it.  i looked around at the trees.  they had no leaves on them.  i watched as the wind blew hard and the trees swayed and bent.  i was amazed at how far they could bend without breaking.  i closed my eyes and listened.  i heard the wind.  it sounded like the waves of the ocean.  i heard the long grass blowing and the leaves tumbling through it. i heard birds in the distance.  i felt the wind on my arms.  it came in gusts.  it felt soft.  i tried to feel without hearing.  i could sense the shadows of my hair whipping over my eyes.  and when i opened them i squinted.  i pondered the wind.  about where it came from.  the sound .  how sometimes it can feel so menacing, and other times feel so calm.  i thought about the movement of the trees and grass.  how everything would look and appear without any sound.  i thought about what music i would play if it were a scene from a film.  i decided the music would be the opposite of the weather.  it would be slow, peaceful, classical music.  piano and violin maybe.  i sat in that field for an hour or more, never saying a single word, only thinking.  the silence was nice.  when i got up to go, many of the gray clouds were vanishing.  there were holes.  patches where bright blue sky shone through.  there were two or three layers of clouds.  the first, closest to me, was the gray clouds.  quickly moving, now growing sparce.  then there were bright glowing white clouds that had no wind to blow them.  so much higher, they just sat and looked pretty.  and i was there standing to watch them.  to watch them motionless, not moving.  even under all the sad gray clouds, they were there, still, quiet, bright.  being pretty.