The Wind

I found a handsaw sticking out of the snow, and I carried it deep into the woods. This is a story I’ve told a few times. ••• Broadcasting from a handmade desk the the Sierra Nevada, The Wind returns for a third year. •••To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewind Subscribe at thewind.org

A welcome to new listeners, and an announcement.Hear my episode on 99% Invisible's feed or at 99pi.org To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org

My office is a field of poison flowerspurple swaying in the breeze.It is also a pathway. For a bear, whose tracks have on occasion encountered my own. Surprised by each other’s quiet presence, we make eye contact before retreat.•On the way to my desk, I traverse a shelf more mixed than lush: Throat Forest — a half failing aspen grove, green shoots among the fallen white trunks. • That which is pliant is a disciple of life: that which is rigid, a disciple of death. • Throat Forest voices this point. The living trees bend and sway, while the dead hold steady and unwavering: solemn monuments, they are their own gravestones.•This has been a year of adjustment, a season of bending and adapting. But in so, a year of life. I appreciate your presence, and this show will return soon, with more findings and searchings.  To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org

How a small sonic boom came to represent homelessness in Reno, and how the city responded to unhoused people taking up sonic real-estate. // Utility, aesthetic language, 911 tape and the search for Reno’s master whip maker.To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewind Subscribe at thewind.org

Kiko Dinucci: “It's been about 10 years since I've realized that in my music, in all my works and projects, such as Metá Metá, I have been working with something beautiful and something ugly; something violent and something lyrical. And I think Brazil is like that. It is a tropical country with wonderful nature, but it has its past and history marked by death, exploitation, and so on and so on… So we live with many amazing things, especially when we think about our culture and nature; but there's a lot of bad stuff too. Thus, we still have a lot of marks from our colonial period, from slavery, from military dictatorship… so I got used to writing songs in this way: bringing together beautiful and ugly things; lyrical and violent things. I like that mix and I like artists who play with it.” To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org

Let's take a long walk. We'll park at the Walmart. Cross the asphalt, past the Arby's and the TJ Maxx. Get on the sidewalk, right between the street and the parking lot. Now, keep walking. Pass the KFC and the Payless Shoes. In just a few long minutes you'll reach the Circle K. Hit the crosswalk button -- it's only you on foot. Watch the traffic back up as you slowly cross the 6 lanes and step into the Burger King parking lot. Behind it, you'll find a Costco. Now the trick is to keep walking, as far as you can, until you can't anymore. And then turn around and walk back. To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org

John Luther Adams, a celebrated composer known for his nature-inspired works, discusses the enchanting Aeolian Harp, an instrument played by the wind. He explores how this unique harp becomes a medium between nature and music, transforming elemental sounds into profound experiences. Adams shares personal stories that reveal the intimate connection between music and the environment. He also reflects on the significance of innovative cultural expressions and how they resonate with future generations, emphasizing the urgent need for deep connections in today's chaotic world.

Traveling the west with an Aeolian Harp: listening in dry lake beds, great sand dunes, and the world's largest living organism, Pando Aspen Grove // official reports from the road. To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org

All we talk about is the smoke. Where I live it has replaced the weather; both conversationally and to some degree physically. Fire has become its own season.I have not had a conversation in over a month that didn’t at least touch on the smoke.But really, that’s only if we’re lucky. Because if we aren’t talking about the smoke, it’s because a fire has come close enough to talk about that instead. Close enough to our houses or friends houses or favorite places in the mountains that we watch slowly be eaten by a red line as the Facebook group updates the fire perimeter. To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org

A note on Throat Forest, a half-failing aspen grove that I pass through on my way to my handmade desk in the woods.  To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewindSubscribe at thewind.org