Juneathon the eight: the wind in the night

When I was a boy, my mother would sometimes complain that she had been kept awake by the wind in the night. It was only when I rose to man's estate that I realised this meant my father's flatulence, not the weather. Not only was there wind in the night, there was wind by day, and when I went out for a brief run after work, it was still strong. When I reached the sea, I was covered in spray and I ran against the wind, watching the waves roll in.