The wind! The wind has finally come. Like the hand of God it has reached down and swept the heat and moisture away. There is still no rain but there is, at last, the wind. The pine trees that guard the yard from the farmer’s field that lies beyond sway back and forth. Their heads peer down from over a hundred feet above and watch the wind scurry across the yard. The wind whips around the house. It flies underneath the guelder rose bush and shakes the branches like a dog shakes a bone. The delicate balls of blossoms scatter. A white spray of petals fly across the lawn like flakes of snow in November.