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The wind people have returned. They go away for the summer, I don’t know where, and they come back just in time for Halloween, sometimes sooner. They bluster about in the forest, making a lot of noise, or congregate on the ridges of the mountains, trying out their skills for later this winter. That’s when they’ll storm the valley floor on dark nights, having fun with peoples’ sleep.

It’s true that you are sleeping you send out little kites and balloons into the dream world. I’m not sure how they do it–the wind people have strange abilities–but they know how to grab a dream kite and send it farther off than the dreamer ever intended, the spool of kite string unwinding at a reckless pace, the kite clutched to their bodies.

Most of the time, it’s harmless fun. You might wake up tired after a night when the wind blew without ceasing. You might be tired and say, “the wind kept me up all night.” It’s truer than most realize. The wind didn’t keep you up all night, it kept your dream kite up and off, all night, speeding through realms, never peaceful, your dream a crazy quilt of impressions, never settling on one thing.

Like most folks, I didn’t know about the wind people. I thought the wind was just wind. But I was walking my usual route this October, and getting pushed about my the wind, this way and that, hearing it roar in the forest, only to come down and again and nearly knock me off my path, that’s when I said to myself, “The wind people have returned.” And I decided to make friends with them, guardedly, the way you might make friends with a crow, say, or a coyote. You don’t want to get too friendly, you know. They might take you places you don’t want to go.


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