My Loss

For those of you that actually read this stupid blog, I want to let you know that I think I've figured out why I feel down so much.
     First an explanation of the Wind Spirit. The mongolians believe in an entity called the Windhorse. It comes to you when you are riding your horse at full gallop and the wind is blowing in your face. It's a feeling of overwhelming abandon and joy. The girl in the famous scene from The Titanic where the girl is riding the bow of the ship is probably one of the best depictions of the Windhorse meeting someone.
     It's the reason people ride motorcycles or drive convertibles. It's why a mountain climber immediately turns his face into the wind after reaching the summit. It's why dogs hang their heads out of car windows.
     I first met the Windhorse when I was around 3. My mother would put me on a merry-go-round and push while I yelled "faster, faster." , or on a swing and want to go higher.
     Nothing makes me happier than to go for a ride with mom and get hopelessly lost. I have this incredible urge to stick my head out of the window.
     I miss the Windhorse.