Julie, that's interesting. Must be what Milne had in mind when he wrote one of my favorite poems:
Wind on the Hill
BY A. A. MILNE
No one can tell me,
... Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
... Where the wind goes.
It’s flying from somewhere
... As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
... Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
... The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
... For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
... Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
... Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
... Where the wind goes . . .
But where the wind comes from
... Nobody knows.
|