Wind

New Zealand is in an area of the Earth known as the Roaring 40’s, a reference to the latitude of the islands.  In this area of the planet, the winds roar.  Sorry Chicago, but you have nothing on Wellington, which is considered the windiest city in the world.  Located on the Cook Strait, a narrow body of water between the North and South Islands, the city gets pummeled by winds that are forced through that tunnel.  Our house is located on the West Coast just north of Wellington.  With Kapiti Island just across from us, we also have an added narrowing that gives the winds more lift.  So if the winds come in, we get hammered.  Usually, I don’t mind.  I like listening to the ocean crashing.  When it gets going, it really does sound like a freight train.  

But this late winter early spring season has been particularly brutal, with days and days of strong or gale force winds.  High ocean waves roll in, and rain pelts the windows.  Out on the beach, the birds fly sideways, the wind impeding their progress.  Trees are whipping and leaves are torn from the branches.

As I write this, the winds are tearing around the house.  The gusts sound similar to a blizzard–the impatient roar as it tries to make its way around objects.  Often it will blow all night, the house creaking.  

The strangest phenomenon is how our mind is trained to interpret the sound.  In the U.S., where I come from, when we hear wind like this, we are hearing a blizzard.  Our natural instinct is to assume the air is going to be cold.  Here it can be a warm wind from the tropics, or it can be an Antarctic wind from the south.  And the direction can change in a moment, meaning it can be warm for a while and then freezing within minutes.  Good luck figuring out what coat to put on or if you need one at all.  Going out in it is not fun. 

And then one day it stops and all is quiet.  These are days when there is not a sound.  The birds sing and the ocean sound is a calming whoosh.