Irish Eyes of Greg Meylan in Dublin
Homesick For Wellington Winds
Where I grew up we looked across the harbour at the city stuck thin between the sea and the sky. There were two winds
which blew, the southerly and the northerly.
The southerly came up from the Antarctic oceans cold and fierce blasting all before it. When it passed the sky shone
blue and exhausted and the sea licked its wounds on the shore.
The northerly was niggly and gusted and puffed in bad temper and tried in its swirling strength to out do the ferocious
capacity of its opposite, and sometimes it did but mostly it fell short.
Best of all was when the two winds met and then for a few minutes sheer madness would take a hold of everything not tied
down and shake them like a good old fashioned Christian sect.
Ships sunk on such days.
Here in Dublin we live without exciting weather so we talk about it instead. Only not much today.