The Wind Children

The wind children are born in the Arctic South; their father the cold, their mother the warming sun. From a mysterious cave the gusts emerge, yet small but complete and voracious. Their mother feeds them a warm broth she cooks on the surface of the ocean. They grow strong with stamping feet, streaming, willful hair and long, tough fingernails.
Over the oceans they grow and on land they come to play. They comb the prairie grass and tickle the trees. With their long fingernails, the wind children tickle the trees in just the right places. The trees wave their many arms about and laugh and laugh, begging the wind children to stop and to not stop. The combed hair of the prairie glistens like gold in the afternoon.