The Wind 



The wind was out in the wheat playing at the big and blessed 

 business of making beauty. The wind is PAINTER as well as 

 sculptor. 



Have you watched the wind on the water? You can see 

 the wind's footsteps, but you can not see its feet. You 

 know the footprints of the wind on the water. You know 

 who has been walking there, for who else could make such 

 footprints on the water? The wind was walking on the 

 water that much is sure. That is why the wind's feet 

 sometimes wet our lawns and gardens and fields the winds 

 have been out walking on the water. How far has the 

 wind come? Whither goes the wind? Does the wind ever 

 tire traveling the far spaces of the sea? How could the wind 

 ever grow footsore stepping on the soft surface of the sea. 

 The wind is a tireless traveler on the highways of the sea. 

 But the wind is making beauty, withal, out there upon the 

 sea. The deft fingers of the wind touch the sea's face into 

 a thousand smiles of wimpling waves. Many of the most 

 beautiful wavelets in the hollows between the waterhills on 

 the sea are the workmanship of the wind. The tide is at 

 work heaving up the hills, but the wind is working with the 

 tide. If you have watched the waves and wavelets, the 

 wrinkles and crinkles out on the sea, then you have seen this 

 wonder-worker in beauty making beauty on the sea. All 

 the Hogarth lines are there marked out by this draftsman 

 of the sea. I will watch the wind-work on the waves and 

 find in them the perfect artistry of God. 



Have you heard the wind in the pines, the wind in the 

 mountains? I have stood under the tall pines in Yosemite 

 and have heard the winds sing. The winds sing? Yes! My 

 friend, who prides himself on his balance and intellectual 



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