Gusts out of the west Burst through our open window Blowing books, pictures, tapes, and papers clear off the top of the bookshelf. It's nearly August and the dry leaves sigh as the wavy winds rise and fall. the shadows freckle and sparkle on the floors and furniture of this room. the doors of the house open and close with minds of their own, attuned to the moving air. at first faraway then near, nature's breath marches incessantly through the treetops. this sunny day itself is excited about being. irrepressible is the goodness of earth. on Wednesdays like this the hues of the blues of the skies themselves move lovingly among us. a house sparrow anchors herself in the chain link fence. the yellow swallowtail butterfly takes a low flight path just above the heads of the flowers.