Long ago, the wind blew away the trees; roots and all blew into the sea. The wind picks up waves and dashes them against the cliffs, but the wind is not a river. The side of the island is a dam that suddenly breaks free at the crest so the wind can rush back to the sea. The wind is not a river. It blows and blows and then it blows away, leaving us in the warmth of our homes. The wind wants to take us with it, but we are dug in, safe and dry, so it can only howl.