Yesterday was the windiest in some time. Not only was the wind strong (gusting to >85 k), it was relentless, continuing for more than 24 hours. I went for a walk during the worst of it, because, well, it was there.
I wish there were an adequate way to record and reproduce the sound. You would need multiple microphones, some means of preventing microphone huffage (yes, I just invented that word), and a theatre with speakers of all sizes in all directions. Sensurround!
Although continuous, the wind was not homogeneous. You could hear the stronger gusts approaching, unseen vortices ravaging one tree and then the next. And each tree, with its characteristic form and structure and degree of leafiness, writhed and wailed with its own rhythm and pitch. A plum, and then a cedar, and then a pair of Douglas firs, and so on. And then it was upon you, pushing you one way or another, removing your hat, turning your umbrella inside-out were you fool enough to carry one.
In the midst of all this was a pear tree in flower, and among its branches was a tiny bird, flitting from blossom to blossom, seemingly unaffected by the storm. Are hummingbirds too trifling for the wind to trouble with? Are they not seen by gusts bent on ripping branches off conifers?