Wind travels across the world, occasionally dying and then being reborn elsewhere in a different guise as a breeze, but always taking with it…something. On occasion if I allow the wind to speak to me as it pummels my face, I feel a little soreness of heart that is not mine.
In the region of Provence, there exists a phenomenon known as Le Mistral which is gale force wind that sweeps across the South of France apparently with a similar effect to lunacy. Incidentally, the word ‘lunacy’ is derived ultimately from the Latin ‘luna’ (moon) and the once-held belief that one’s mental state was dependent on the phases of the moon.
When Le Mistral blows, it sets some people on edge or gives them a migraine, maybe due to lack of sleep caused by the howling noise it makes gusting up to 120 km/h. The dry cold air blows hard and evenly, and the sunshine is harsh and blinding. It blows dust in your eyes and leaves your teeth gritty with sand. It is an endurance test, but once it has finished it’s business it will leave the air clean and fresh.
There is an old French law stating that anyone who claims to have gone mad on account of the sound of Le Mistral may be pardoned of their crime, including murder.