The Hamlet Project

In my citified life, I never have cause to think about the direction of the wind. I notice which way it blows my skirt – ahead of, or behind me- but which direction it comes from never enters my mind. I expect, in more open climates, the direction from which it comes is quite a bit more significant. Maybe you can feel the chill coming in from Canada or the heat from the rains down in Africa.

Here in NYC, I’d have to consciously think through which way the wind was coming from to know if it were Northerly.