Wind. The summer wind. In the Winter I hide from it and curse it, and pull my hood around me even tighter. I run from it and look for shelter as fast as possible.
But in the Spring, in the Summer, I bask in it. I feel it as it pushes against me when I ride my bike. I laugh as it turns my unruly hair even more unruly. I smirk as I attempt to hold it back from my face, and yet still see the world through tousled brown.
And I welcome it’s warm and cooling affect.