“
With riddles as black as coals, and answers as invisible as our past,
I can only depend upon the crest of the rolling wave I now traversed;
a romance worshiped only by the dreamer in us all,
a psithurism of trust making its way through the years of our ascension
to one day climb above the kaleidoscopic canopy of this mortal coil.
”
”
Dave Matthes (In This House, We Lived, and We Died)
“
Every pine tree I walked beneath had its particular inflection, its needles hissing in frequencies subtly different from the ones before – the dictionary term is ‘psithurism’, the noise of wind passing through leaves – an evergreen language that sounded like whispered words.
”
”
Nick Hunt (Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe's Winds from the Pennines to Provence)