Yesterday afternoon we went on a spontaneous visit to the windy wilds of Manitoba to find the native crocuses in bloom. Our guide, Adeline, introduced us to the wild crocus, which is an endangered species and which only grows in un-tilled land. Each year they are becoming harder and harder to find, but Adeline knows where to look. Apparently the crocus is deceptively clean and fuzzy looking. If picked (and DON'T because they're protected by law!) they are full of bugs and the bugs will slowly come out and cover your dining room table. While we were out there, Adeline and Luke also had a good listen to the frogs in the slough (I've never actually used that word in a sentence so I hope I'm right in referring to it as a slough - maybe it's a creek, or just a ditch....?). The frogs were singing beautifully and Luke shouted into the wind, "The frogs are talkin' to YOU!" I lost my hat a few times in the wind and was reminded of my sincere dislike of the howling prairie wind, but it's part of living on the prairie, and this was a true Manitoba experience.
If you'd like to read the story that first made me dislike the prairie wind, read "The Painted Door" by Sinclair Ross. This was required reading for my Canadian Literature class and we discussed the personification of the wind in this short story, and how the wind was not just personified, but was an actual character in the story.
But a word of caution, it is not a pleasant story, and after reading it you may never feel the same about wind again. Also, it will not leave you with the nice feeling my post has left you with, and might in fact ruin your day. Definitely do not read it just before bed. Or first thing in the morning. Or if you're already in a bad mood. Or if you're in a good mood. In fact, you're better off not reading it at all. Which is why I can still say it's a wonderfully written piece. It's stuck with me like an old nightmare.
