Against the Wind
I also attempted a third ‘wind’ from a photo taken in California of my mother walking against the wind. The painting is lacking in dynamics and does not capture the figure nor wind very well. The large barn and rolling California hills make a nice landscape. The small figure struggled in a fierce wind as we made our way back to our car. To know my mother is to know music. I heard many songs among the hills that day - blowing in the wind.
Against the wind
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm older now but still runnin' against the wind
Ode to the West Wind (part of)
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odours plain and hill:
Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
A Wind on a Hill
by AA Milne
No one can tell me,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Watercolor painting visiting Danny’s barn in Tres Pinos, California with mom: