Oh the wind.

The wind blows. The wind talks to me.

The wind roars. The roaring of the wind. The wind lashes out. The wind knocks things over that go scurrying along helpless, rattling on the hard ground, the sound fading into the distance.

I hear the wind deep down in my bones. I hear and feel the wind at the centre of me and it feels so good. Outside it is cold, dark and windy and  the sound of that wind blowing brings me indescribable joy. A profound sense of comfort and happiness, at being cosy and warm inside while outside the elements rage.

The tempest rages.

The weather wails.

And I remember that exquisite feeling of being warm and snug as a bug in a rug underneath the covers, in my bed, with the wind howling and lashing the rain against the bare pane.

I remember.