The Moor's Strong Spring Wind

Yes! The luscious wind.
The warm wind.
The strong breath of a spring day.
Covering and caressing with warm cream.

The trees, too, are ringing; as they always do.
They turn the wind distinct.
Give it the sound of power.
Of relentless assault.

The tussocks dance. 

Dance and flower to it.
Upright and attentive to power. Control.

Move in into the mammary hills
As if heading somewhere.
Yet only head to the hills.
To get inside.
To stake a claim to heather, fern and peaty ground.
To put your arms around and close all in.
You move with it. Against it.
It takes your meagre weight. 

It plays with it.
Pushing you forwards, backwards, then sideways.

The warm wind.
The strong breath of a spring day.

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[Source: Halton Heights [Halton East] to Barden Moor, Embsay With Eastby, near Skipton, North Yorkshire, northern England.]