There’s a huge wind blowing outside. The sound of it in the trees is one of the reasons I love this house. Buffets are gentled as the tree sways, its branches thrash and the energy is absorbed. You hear the same dissipation of sound and force when a wave breaks on a pebbled beach.
I found myself thinking of the last line of Larkin’s poem, Absences:
Such attics cleared of me! Such absences!
Here’s the whole poem:
Rain patters on a sea that tilts and sighs.Fast-running floors, collapsing into hollows,Tower suddenly, spray-haired. Contrariwise,A wave drops like a wall: another follows,Wilting and scrambling, tirelessly at playWhere there are no ships and no shallows.Above the sea, the yet more shoreless day,Riddled by wind, trails lit-up galleries:They shift to giant ribbing, sift away.Such attics cleared of me! Such absences!