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When the Chubasco Blows

By David Ross

When the Chubasco blows harsh and wet at the village of Pichilingue in Mexico, boys and girls run quickly to the sandy beach and haul to safety the sea-worn boats their fathers use for pearl diving.

When the Oroshi blows hard and dry at the town of Koga in Japan, boys and girls place tiny round loafs of bread atop offerings they bring to the temple that silently guards a smiling statue of Buddha.

When the Doctor blows soft and light at the town of Dongara in Australia, Aborigine boys and girls quit the shade of peeling gum trees and search for bushes that hide plump witchetty grubs.

When the Chinook blows hot and dry at the town of Red Deer in Canada, boys and girls skate at break-neck speed to the shores of ice-covered ponds before the hungry wind can melt the ice in one quick, angry breath.

When the Mistral blows fierce and bitter at the town of Beaucaire in France, boys and girls tie tender grapevines to long, thin wires that snake across the rolling hillside of the family vineyard.

When the Sirocco blows hot and dry at the oasis of Rebiana in Libya, boys and girls pull down the hoods of their burnooses and seek shelter behind palm trees from the bitter blasts of sand that scour the face of the desert.

When the Demani blows soft and silent in the village of Kakamega in Kenya, boys and girls cut thick pieces of sugar cane and then suck the sweet nectar on sunny April afternoons.

When the Suestada blows sharp and wet at the town of Saladillo in Argentina, boys and girls riding on the pampas turn their ponies and gallop quickly back to the warm safety of the estancia.

When the Santa Ana blows hot and dusty at the town of Mojave in California, boys and girls jump on their bikes and race tumbleweeds down dirt streets packed hard by a beating sun.

When the Buran blows icy and sharp at the town of Slobodskoy in Russia, boys and girls pull their hats over beet-red ears before climbing on home-made sleds for one last dash down a snowy hill.

When the Harmattan blows warm and gritty at the village of Oshogbo in Nigeria, boys and girls hide between stalls in the market and count the coins they'll use to buy sweets when the shopping day is done.

When the Blue Norther blows cold and biting at the town of Plainview in Texas, boys and girls popped fresh from warm beds begin morning chores by chopping away the ice that coats troughs in the corral.

When the Thar blows hot and dry at the town of Phalodi in India, boys and girls wearily turn down the path toward home, striking the rumps of cattle that stroll to the clank-clank-clank of copper bells.

When the Chi'ing Fung blows gentle and sweet at the Chinese village of Qingcheng, boys and girls run to their homes and grab dragon kites they will set free to ride the wind.


Copyright David Ross 1995-2003