You can’t see it nor hold it in your hands or catch it in a jar. Yet it surrounds us, in the hot air of summer, the damp zephyr of fall, the icy nip of winter and the cool brisk breeze of spring. The wildest, most amazing one is born in the midst of a storm, blowing with away it’s might, trying to blast you away and penetrating even the thickest of coats. Flowing  endless melodies on the breeze, a song that spreads across the land. Faint music floats in the air. Full of energy in many  forms, the most elusive element is wind.


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