Khaled lived on the cliffs, just in front of the sea. He was a small, slender man, with light blue eyes and gentle hands. Every evening, after the sun disappeared as a gold disc below the horizon, he used to get down the cliffs, on the shore, to collect a curl of the wind. It was not an easy job, since the wind, especially the Sea Wind, which blows from far away seas, was a cunning fellow. He recognized the man holding his red bird cages, hanging from long poles, with their small doors wide open, as to invite the wind to get inside. That’s why Khaled used to hide behind the rocks, and when a curl of wind - still fragrant of salt and algae - would get into the cage, he was quick to close the door. In his hut he kept many red cages, containing curls of the wind, each one caught when the wind was in a different mood : whispering, cheerful, dancing, or even blowing fiercely, enraged. Whatever the mood, when he reached the cliffs, the sea wind was tired, having had to work hard all the way to bring the waves into line, so that they would run ashore in an orderly way, parallel to the shore. The wind received the waves in the middle of the sea from the Waves-Master, who instructed every wind in which direction to push the waves. But not all waves were willing to obey. Some were jealous of higher waves, others were scared to run into a rock, still others would have liked to change their routes. In those cases, the wind had to blow harder and harder, and the sea would become rougher and rougher, and when that happened all sailors at sea, even the most fearless, would fall silent. But when everything calmed down, and the moon turned the sea into a glimmering silver lawn, the wind loved to listen to the ravishing songs of the waves or to their tales about the arcuated golden fishes with ruby eyes coming from the South Seas, or the amethist fishes with multi-coloured tails, which jumped through the waves foam turning it iridescent, or even the coral ones, their fins inlaid with shining topaz stones they collected from the bottom of the Oriental Seas. Every morning, at daybreak, Khaled used to take the cages out of his hut and place them in front of the sea, so that the curls could greet their friends. Sometimes the curls would sing, in a faint voice - since they were so tiny - pieces from the songs they had learnt from the waves. But one morning, to his astonishment, he found all the doors of the cages open and the curls gone. He knew that no one could have possibly come into his hut without him noticing. He could only think of one person so malicious, and who was more malicious than the Mountain Wind ? Although the Mountain Wind was usually extremely noisy, he could also move on tiptoe, as when he tried to surprise little birds and scare them. He was strong and cruel. He liked everybody and everything to bow to his fury : that’s why he used to blow fiercely even at big trees, trying to uproot them. Only the North Wind would dare to face him, but just at night, since the Mountain Wind had a poor sight, although he could smell any intruder from very far away.
Khaled was wondering whom could he turn to for help. He knew no one, apart from the sea wind, the waves, and some turtles which used to come ashore to listen to the curls of wind, when they were singing. It was a small, blue-eyed turtle which got close to him and suggested that he might get help from the stork that Khaled had taken care of the previous winter, when the stork had its feathers ruffled by the Mountain Wind and was unable to regain flying. The stork had told him to start a fire whenever he would need help. Storks, in fact, although flying very high, can smell smoke leagues and leagues away. Khaled collected some woods and started a big fire. But, suddenly, a storm came, and estinguished the fire. Khaled waited for the rain to stop, but this time it rained for three days and three nights, nostop. Finally, the rain stopped. Khaled waited for the wood to dry-up, and started a fire again. But after a few minutes some drops of rain returned, and they put the fire out. Khaled tried again and again, but to no avail. The fire, in fact, had been fighting all the previous days up in the mountains, against the rain, and was exhausted.
Khaled sat on the shore, looking at the waves, not even listening to their songs, because he was very sad After some time, - he could’nt remember how long - the little turtle with blue eyes appeared and again had something to suggest: “ There is only a fire which does not extinguish, even in the rain : it’s the fire made with wood from sycamore trees.” Khaled remembered that, not far away, there were some sycamores. He got a hatchet, chose a big sycamore, and prepared to fell it. But the tree started to implore him: “ Please, spare me. If you do, I’ll tell you where you can find , not too far, three dead sycamore trees bigger than me, which were struck by lightning.” Khaled found the dead trees and got all the woods he needed to start a very big fire. The rain saw it, and rushed in. But the fire went on merrily burning in spite of the rain. A blue smoke came out of the fire in big puffs, raising high in the sky. The stork, although in that moment was flying over the blue lakes land, far away, still smelled the smoke and immediately changed his course. Just before sunsetting, Khaled heard a big flapping of wings, and the stork appeared nearby him. When the stork heard what had happened, told him that the two of them could maybe find out where the mountain wind had hidden the curls. But they should have to fly very high, in order not to be discovered by that wicked wind. “Sit astride on me - the stork said - and don’t be afraid.” The two immediately departed, Khaled bent over and hugging the stork strongly. Storks are in fact quite smooth, and Khaled was afraid to slide down. The stork was flying in the direction of the turquoise mountains, where the Mountain Wind dwelled, and it seemed to know exactly where the mountains were located. It was night, by then, and cloudy, so Khaled wondered how the stork could find its way. “ But how you birds can find the precise spot you want to get to ?” Khaled asked. “Ah, but that is explained in another story, by Maleck, if you can ever find him.” The stork answered. * When they reached the hills at the foot of the mountains, and they were ready to enter a narrow Canyon, a strong headwind rose in a fury. It was blowing so fiercely that the stork had to hurry down and stop behind a big rock, unable to fly. They had been discovered by the Mountain Wind, for sure. Khaled sat thinking, but the more he thought the more he felt disheartened, since he could not imagine any way to get to the wind dwelling unnoticed. He felt overwhelmed and, suddenly, he started sobbing, louder and louder. To his surprise, he heard other sobs, similar to his owns, coming from the canyon they had tried to enter. He was on the verge of asking the stork to run away, since he was quite scared, when he heard a voice, coming from afar: I’m the Echo. What makes you sob ?” Khaled explained, and every word he uttered, the Echo repeated. At the end, the Echo told him : “It’s true that the Mountain Wind is fearless, but there is one thing which terrorizes him : and that is the sea.” It will get me no time to get to the sea, since my own echo makes me advance extremely fast. I will fetch the sound of the sea, and I will resound it hundreds and hundreds of times trough the mountains.” When the Mountain Wind heard the sound of the sea could not believe his hearings : never the sea had come close to the mountains. Scared to death, he rushed to where Khaled and the stork were, and handed them the curls. * See : “ A Wisp of Smoke “ Khaled seated on the stork, who was flying quite delighted, and in a time which to Khaled seemed very short, arrived home full of joy. He thanked the stork, and then went down the cliffs to ak the sea what he could do to return the favour. “I’m the sea - he answered - I cannot think of anything you, or anybody else, could do for me. But you could do something, which the sea wind would appreciate : return those curls to the wind. You should know that wind curls, likewise waves, like to be free.” Khaled opened all the cages, and the curls dashed out towards the sea.
Khaled sat on the shore, looking at the sea, listening to the waves, trying to understand their songs. He felt at peace with himself and with all the world around him. Suddenly, he felt a great longing to identify himself with the sea. He dived into the water, tasted its saltiness, and started playing with the waves. He let them caress him, feeling weightless, free, utterly happy as he had never felt before. He tought, vaguely, that his dream was to become part of the sea. He closed his eyes and prayed for his dream to come true.
Paolo Altamura