The Lonely Wind: A Summer of Understanding and Acceptance

Warmth surrounded Sunny’s tanned figure; July had been a hot month and she had been begging for a sense of relief in her wilting body that crippled as the heat shone on her throughout the long day. She swung on the creaky porch swing that sat in front of her rickety house and gestured her eyes to the scenery around her. The sun was low, and the bright yellow beams were slowly dozing into the horizon like melting ice cream. The grass was a vibrant and thriving green and was mowed to a perfect two inches tall thanks to Sunny, and the street was quiet enough that she could hear the streetlights buzzing like the mosquitos that bit her legs.

 The night, a dark ooze, seeped into the atmosphere and the breeze fell down with it. Finally could Sunny feel the chilling cool creep into her hair and flail it around. She was waiting for this moment; she knew the exact time the wind fell into her lap and embraced her body. Every night she waited that summer, and every night it came and swarmed her with its chill, refreshing her after a long day of blaring heat.

The wind had a touch that soothed Sunny like no one else could, it scratched her back and let her feel its light touch; a touch so delicate her heart fluttered with every woosh that sounded against her enthralled ears. 

It felt like when she was alone all of her thoughts flowed freely with the wind. It took her seriously, it caressed her and let her succumb to her emotion in its grasp. The wind was much different from anyone she had known before. It understood her for who she really was and accepted her with open arms. 

Her mind raced with excitement when the time came for the sky to fall into an obsidian black that's diamonds gleamed into the lonely town. Only, the wind made it less isolating for Sunny. Her summer was lame to say the least and she had barely any friends to talk to or go out with.

Her first year of highschool had been especially challenging, she was entering a school in a brand new city– meeting new people who already had humongous friend groups and lifelong friendships. Most kids at her preppy institution were too self centered and only paid attention to the number of likes that racked up on their social media posts; she realized they would never pay attention to real people anyways. To say she had no friends would be the utmost correct explanation. Her classes were fairly easy though and she breezed right through them and when the summer came all of that stress halted and she relaxed in her tidy bedroom, relinquishing her body to the savory summer. 

When she met the wind for the first time, it had been an evening in the middle of June, she sat on the porch swing, it was becoming a routine, and she took a long look at what her days were becoming: lackluster and ordinary. She was bored, like any other teen who had nothing else to do but clean their room or mow the lawn for an extra five bucks just so their hours could be filled with some sort of activity. 

She liked to think she manifested him into existence, to fill her lonely heart with excitement, but the “wind” had been born just like her, and was bored too, just like her. 

The wind stopped at the front porch steps before carrying itself up to the swing where she comfortably sat. It complimented her shoes. How funny, she thought. Her shoes were a plain white with green grass stains, it had been clear they were thoroughly used. Although, it realized the work she had been putting into that pristine lawn and that was something that would never leave Sunny’s mind.

That day was the first time she had laughed in a very long time and she couldn’t forget about what it had softly said about her stained shoes. The sentence that was uttered about the dirty pair seemed so simple, yet it in truth had not been to her. 

Someone recognized her, her effort; had it really noticed her efforts to keep the front lawn in perfect shape and health? Someone noticing such a simple achievement made Sunny feel more apparent than she had felt that whole summer.

The entire year she had been unnoticed and stuck in her shell of solitude, but something had changed this season, and it became the one thing that she looked forward to for the rest of the summer months to come.

 All summer the lonely wind would come along at the same time every evening; when the night awoke so did Sunny. It was like she had been asleep all this time but this gust completely overtook her. It awakened a flare in her that had not been lit in ages. She felt her spark for life regenerate and her boredom burn away. 

Her eyes, vividly aware of the gorgeous hues of summer, allowed her to observe the wind itself. Wind is just air, pushed and pulled around to the weathers liking, pressurized, heated, chilled. It could adjust to any climate and could form practically anywhere it imagined itself. 

The wind to Sunny at first was gentle and versatile, it saw her and she saw it; however, the more she looked, the more she saw through it too. On the outside it presented itself as breezy and smooth, words flowed off its tongue like a graceful river, and every syllable felt so soft like a hymn to her ears. But the wind could take after any sensation that was exhausted into the atmosphere. Sunflowers broke from their buds and let out the rich and candied smell of the Earth, but the ocean carried bitter and salty winds that hurt to turn to.

 As the summer progressed and fall rolled through, so did the dry and brisk weather. Once the electric greens of summer trees turned into muted hues of orange and yellow, the wind started to appear less and less. Sunny’s spark was fleeing her, and she knew the breeze was swirling towards someplace else, but she still waited every night for it to come.

Oftentimes it did, and Sunny never questioned its absence, but she began to understand that as the weather changed to a stale and mellow chill, there was no need for the gusts anymore. Her body did not swelter at the heat, but shivered with the crisp temperature and the wind knew not to overstay its refreshing visit. 

Saddened by the end of its stay, Sunny attempted to cultivate and cherish the last bits of their interactions, afraid of her spark sizzling out. But the harder she tried the more icy and chilling the wind became. 

Syllables turned solid and concise, and the wind sighed with every tiring sentence it would manage to utter. They both knew their time together was ceasing to exist, and August began to hang over the two and watch them repulse each other like two positively charged magnets. 

Sunny’s heart stopped its continuous blaze of fire, but the sun still shined, her eyes still saw the same hues and glowing landscape, she did not feel alone anymore, she felt almost serene and she was actually excited for the school year to begin again. 

She realized the wind made her feel recognized, she felt seen, heard. Despite their slippery downfall the one thing that remained was that feeling, like she was finally accepted and admired, and it didn’t matter if that feeling lasted, but that she knew how to feel it. 

She could fuel her own fire, she could surround it with bricks and make a chimney for it for all she cared; a foundation to grow upon. She found to regain her confidence and visibility that the night breeze taught her to express. 

The wind had swept her off her feet, but now, because of him, she learned how to pick herself back up and kindle her own blazing fire of passion and ambition. She sprouted from the ground like a dazzling sunflower, always facing towards the blazing daylight instead of looking towards the mysterious and unknown night.