Here in the Missouri-Iowa-Nebraska corner of Kansas, it is a rare day that the wind does not blow. Farther out, where the land changes from rolling hills to rolling land, it is even more constant. Go far enough west in Kansas and you’ll see that the trees lean to the northeast. That speaks of constant wind, wind that is strong.

Around here, the trees that bend do so from some other reason, most likely an ice storm, though some are formed by the dropping of a higher limb or a larger tree. Our winds do not blow strong and steady enough from a single direction to bend the fencerows.

This is not a complaint, by the way. There’s not a lot of wind-surfing in the area and it’s some drive to a lake large enough for sailing. What we had yesterday could have put a boat on the opposite bank in a matter of minutes.

Not being on a boat, I had to content myself with wry amusement at the pile of corn shucks collected in the doorwell of the Communications Technology wing as I went over yesterday. Even though the nearest cornfield is over a tenth of a mile away, a forty-mile-an-hour wind can send things flying for some little while. Caught in the eddy of the north wall, these shucks had piled a foot deep by mid-morning. And, of course, every time the door opened, some of them blew in to strew along the hallway.

Obviously, this was the first time we’d had a wind this strong from this particular direction since the harvest last fall. The chain link fence on the west side of the football field was plastered with shucks. I won’t say that it was lovely but it was interesting. Attractive in a whimsical sort of way, especially if you aren’t the custodian in the CT building.

It’s not terribly unusual in this world that we are rather more inclined to enjoy diversions that mean more work for others. And we ought to be careful, whether buying art or investigating philosophies, that we do not confuse novelty with beauty.

H. Arnett

3/1/12