He invited me to walk in the wind. My silk scarf whipped upwards like a pair of wings. Strong gusts swept into that secret, wild place in my heart and every sense awakened. Soon rain began falling and, arms outstretched, we lifted our faces to the sky. As it began to sting, we maneuvered atop the narrow mud walls of the rice paddies towards a line of trees. Patches of straw were tossed and scattered from a rooftop in the distance. A pair of wooden shutters rattled against clay walls. The air was charged and the ground echoed a vibration from the rumbling clouds. We shivered, soaked to the bone, yet filled with a fire from the storm.