If I were to attempt to catch the wind, I would probably encounter bird droppings, mosquitoes, gnats and every flying insect that circles the globe along the way.

Yet I would enjoy, if only for one moment, holding a drop — or is it an ounce? — of wind in my hands. I wonder what it would feel like to capture a bit of wind from time to time, swirl it around a variety of plant life and collect all within its grasp.

Would it be anti-horticultural to grasp a handful of wind and rotate it around the great plumes of pampas grass? Perhaps the pampas would tilt towards the wind and offer a nod of thanks for the cool breeze during a hot day.

Or maybe the pampas would back away from the wind desiring a drink of water rather than a sudden thrust of air that makes it feel dry and stressed.

Carex and muhlenbergias appear to enjoy a slight breeze that nips the tips of their stems. Ornamental grasses look lovely, like a cast of dancers as the wind moves them while standing in place.

Recently, wind has been awarded a certificate of destruction. We read and hear of high winds, tornadic winds, cold winds and snow-driven winds.

With all that publicity, gentle winds have little chance to demonstrate their worth in the garden. We know that a light breeze adds grace to the landscape and keeps movement a constant.

Somewhere along the chart, between the harsh wind that clips plants and freezes leaves and the gentle breeze that offers solace to a spring garden, there is a mediocre wind, one that permits birds to fly from coast to coast, sailboats to glide across slow-moving lake water, and airplanes to transport people and plants to new places.

Butterflies move in the unseen wind. Dragonflies propel themselves to hover over ponds, protecting their larvae from mosquitoes while holding their flight patterns against the wind.

One of the most endearing attributes of the wind is that it lifts, carries, and drops seeds of plants across the landscapes of many gardeners. Sometimes a flower that has never been planted in a garden suddenly appears smack in the center of a holly shrub.

Or what about the sweet pea that has been shifted from its original stance by the wind and set directly between two stately trees to stand alone, yet offers glorious color and fragrance in its finest hour.

While driving along the highway, there is a variety of trees and shrub, some wild, some domestic, all existing because of wind, because a seed was carried and planted by the wind.

Granted, birds carry and drop seeds also. But the birds need the wind to propel them to carry the seeds. And native flowers are labeled native for a reason.

The wind can be a force to reckon with or to be appreciated. As a gardener, I don’t have the choice as to whether or not the wind will assist, harm, or destroy my plants. I do have the choice of awareness, observation and location of my plants. I also have the option to aid in the selection and protection of my plants, whether they are a tough group or an easily broken lot.

I have a new respect for wind. I spend most of my time outdoors where I can appreciate nature and all that it has to offer.

Weather patterns help me decide how to protect my plants. If they need to be covered, then that is my job as a parent. If they are thirsty, then they need to be given water.

If they require food, then I will select the best type for the particular plant.

And if I hear of gusty winds, I will protect my horticultural kids from getting broken or hurt. As a gardener, that is my job.