It breaks mighty trees and gently sways the reeds. Renata Lis looks at the relationships that lyrical heroes, mythical characters, and she herself have had with the wind.

It seems these could be the last few years that we’ll be able to feel the sensations of the climate of our childhood. The climate we were taught about in geography lessons: transitional between oceanic and continental, and above all, moderate. It’s a ‘neither fish nor fowl’ type of climate (thus far, neither species have fallen prey to the Anthropocene, so the expression still holds), with little in the way of excess. Because although the Polish weather comes in various patterns, its amplitude is within reason: after the rain there may be a flood, but not one of biblical proportions; the wind may break the henhouse roof, but it won’t blow away the cross from Giewont [a site of religious pilgrimage in the Tatra Mountains – trans. note]. The rumble of impending disasters is starting to break through this idyll of relative stability – sandstorms and tornadoes are happening more frequently – but for now we perceive it as