the wind's job

Must be cold under the bridge tonight. It's cold here on spring garden road. The snow isn't deep but its leaping and twisting around in the wind, like white dust devils on an arctic desert. I did a few rounds about half an hour ago and already the wind has removed my footprints, like I was never there. I suppose that's part of the wind's job, to clean the surface of things, to remove all traces of the places where we tresspass. - a work in progress