Luna is afraid of the wind. I’m not really sure why or how it started, but the first time it became noticeable to me was when we were living in a beautiful old mansion in Buenos Aires, Argentina (the fact that Luna and I have lived together in four countries and eight cities is a story for another time). The mansion belonged to a trio of sisters who had inherited the house and decided to rent out rooms for long-term stays. It had a lot of shutter-style windows. In the summer, the wind provides divine relief from the humidity and overbearing heat, and is often accompanied by thunderstorms. It was always obvious when a thunderstorm was coming because of the huge gusts of wind that blew the windows back and forth, sometimes slamming, a sound that echoed through the house. Luna’s eyes would get huge as she watched the windows moving mysteriously. I think she thought there were ghosts.