By Isaac Andreas

‘A Pact with the Wind’

Lincoln, Nebraska, July 1

Dear Wind,

You are my fickle friend. At times I so admire you; at others I curse your very breath. When I ride with you I see every blade of grass and leaf cheer us along. When I ride alone I witness no such respect. When we were young I was whisked away by your breezy attitude and lofty outlook on life. I’m beginning to wonder if this whirlwind thing is going to work out after all. I feel like I’m losing you. Please, Wind, we can make this work.

Here’s what I will do. I will work to stop emitting carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gasses in order to reduce my impact on climate change and extreme weather conditions which cause you to react so violently. I will also work to protect forests and grasslands so that you have space to work through your own emotions without causing damage. I will listen to what you have to say.            

This is what I would ask of you, Wind:

Wind is fragrant, wind is kind.  It does not whip in a frenzy, it does not gust, it is not loud. It does not flatten tents; it does not steal bike gloves at night; it does not blow sand or rain in eyes; it does not hide behind a Semi to push bikers off the road, it does not disperse trash. Wind does not delight in upheaval but rejoices in self-control. It always is (ideally) a tailwind, always helps push, always cools your sweaty brow, always brings good weather, always lifts. Wind never fails. But where there are forecasts, they will be wrong; where there are gusts, they will be still; where there are resolute tempests, they will pass away.             

I believe there is still time for reciprocity between us. I hope that you agree. I eagerly await your reply.

Best zephyrs,