Brushing Fingers Through the Wind

I can hear the wind blustering.... Blustering automatically makes me think of an old man when he is taken off guard by a saucy child... and if one thinks about it long enough the wind is old. It's been around since... well... forever.
I stand outside sometimes at night and feel the wind blow gently on my face in the form of a breeze. Breezes are my favorite part of wind. Howling wind can be disturbing, especially at more than seventy miles an hour. Breezes could be deemed the children of wind... soft and fluttery they dance merrily through the trees and brush my hair into tangled knots.
My daddy thinks that a cool concept is the wind being the angels moving around, and that it is the affect of that in the real world... considering there are four dimensions... too deep of thinking for me. I can imagine, however, the angels' large swords swinging in battle as they protect me and the result being a swoosh of wind. So what then are the howling winds? An epic battle? A charge of the enemy on a group of Christians and a regiment of angelic soldiers goes to battle for them to protect them?
So the little breezes must be a changing of the guard so to speak. That may be why I feel an affinity with the breezes. The changing of the guard means that I am under constant protection spiritually. Sigh... I love brushing fingers with the wind. It blows through my fingers and reminds me that no matter what causes it, a much larger hand than mine is in control of it... even the loud howling winds are submissive to the one who brushes His fingers through the wind.