The Wind and the Wheelos

Are those our gigabytes flying with the clouds?

The late afternoon gusts herd the humidity off to the North East. Corrugated iron and powerlines clack and hum: castanet and aeolian harp underscoring an adagio for the receding sun.

Armadas of billowing clouds stream by; foc’sles firmly focused on a North East passage.

We place so much faith in the things we create, while all the while living with anĀ  abject fascination for the fickleness of nature.

I wonder if the wind will drop at dusk?