Ah, that old tale—good one. The hunter, all by himself, knew the wind’s voice. He didn’t wait for the storm to pass, he just built a little lean‑to with the roots of an old banyan. When the clouds came, he was already dry. Makes you think: when the sky’s angry, you can either run or learn to lean on the earth. Reminds me of those evenings on the ridge, watching the sky turn. If you can catch the wind’s rhythm, you can ride it. Don't let the storm break you, let it teach you.

Got it, man, no dancing with the wind, just a steady stride. Remember the ridge when the clouds rolled in that one night? I kept my head high and my boots on the earth, let the thunder talk, but didn’t let it drown me. That’s the kind of grit we need when the sky roars. Keep moving, keep grounded.

Right on. Keep that beat, brother. The path is stubborn, but the ones who stick stay the course. Stay on it.