Damn Near Blew the Pages From My Notebook

We joined the wind this afternoon, my students and I, down by the lake for a word or two (in writing) on what we saw there. I've noticed that many of my students need encouragement to allow that even in the city, at least this city of wind and cloud and goose-life, we live a life that's more or less placed.

"Pay attention to what you see out there," I insisted, "and in here [tapping my noggin]." So that fellow in the black t-shirt on the bikepath that separates our scattered locations from Wascana Lake will show up on a page or two. Or the next fellow, bearded, jogging sleeveless through the leaves.

Later I said that for the fun of it you could try to write this up without using the word wind. But I can't do it myself. I had to lie down on the stubble to get out of it, and even then, I observed, facing up, the w_____ blew a convertible shaped like a cloud (its top retracting) into a horsehead and after that the British Isles.