Airs, like wine, can be recognized by their taste, color, and quality—by all sorts of subtle manifestations of character. Some are milky and mild, some glassy green, some clear as crystal. from Song of the Sky
What is theat moaning outside my window—that rising and falling voice o feeling—that rended wail of unseen doing? Whose voice? The gale's? from Song of the Sky
Did you ever take a pencil and book to scribe down the sounds the wind makes as it sifts and soughs through the trees? from Song of the Sky
Cumulus nurslings emerge from their hot-air eggs over warm field and towns often only to blow along on the wind for a few minutes to cooler regions, where mixing with drier air, they fade and die. from Song of the Sky
And rain is more than wind's tears. It is the blood of the earth—its downward flow moves through arteries out of the thunderhead of the sky.... from Song of the Sky
Snow in truth springs straight out of the mystic womb of sky where hyperborean winds spoon the molecules of water vapour into sublimated birth. from Song of the Sky
...these falling snowflakes spiral in a number of different ways. Some float almost straight down without turning. Some spin rapidly like propellers. Some twist clockwise; others counterclockwise. Some rotate alternately one way then the other, a few with a flapping motion like a wounded bird or a falling leaf—each a unit of graceful individual expression until its dance is cut impersonally short by the ground. from Song of the Sky
...people assume that air was just air and, like well-stirred soup, that all parts of it blended imperceptibly into one another to make the homogeneous broth of sky. from Song of the Sky
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