“Who let that Hawk out? Whew, the Hawk is flying high today!” I exclaimed as walked into my office from a bone-chilling 21-degree Atlanta morning.
A weird silence fell over the room. As I removed my hat, I saw five co-workers looking at me as if I’d grown another head. One turned his head hard-left like the terrier staring at the gramophone in the old RCA trademark. Suddenly, I realized that the room was filled with folks under 40 and none of them had a clue of what I was talking about.
According to limited published information, the old phrase used to describe biting, gripping, chilly winds originated in the South. “The Hawk” gained popularity as formerly enslaved African people moved to northern states in the Great Migration (1915-1960), specifically in Chicago.
As I explained the anthropomorphized wind to my younger gathering, I recalled that many colloquialisms originate from misspellings or mispronunciations. Since this saying originated in the South, I imagine it may have roots dating back to the spiritual cosmologies of those kidnapped from Africa in the transatlantic slave trade.
In Kemetic (North African/Egyptian) mythology, Hutchai, the god of the west wind, is depicted as a man with the head of a serpent. Considering such mispronunciation of Hutchai might be a stretch. Henkhisesui, the god of the stronger east wind, is closer in description anatomically. Henkhisesui has the body of a man with two wings (some also depict him as a scarab). Well, at least now we have wings.
Neither, however, is as close as Heru (also called Har or Hor), god of the sky. Though the possibility of mispronunciation increases dramatically here, what is more noteworthy is how Heru fits visually. He has the body of a man and the head of a hawk (or for some a falcon, which is difficult to distinguish except for the better birdwatchers among you). Even in the imagination of the creators of the game WarGods, the rage of the Heru is “of a colder sort with a voice that becomes a piercing shriek and a gaze of icy fury.”
I like winter a lot. But let’s face it, I’m from Hotlanta. I’d prefer to wake up to far fewer mornings having fallen into the hands of an angry Heru. Yet, I appreciate the wind. Whether the Hawk of Chicago, or the great mountain splitting force of Elijah’s Mount Horeb encounter
(1 Kings 19:11), wind is an extraordinary source of power. It is the cheapest way to generate electricity and one of our best hopes for avoiding catastrophic climate change brought on by the continued overutilization of fossil fuels.
Wind plants must be immense in order to meet demand. Enough turbines operating to supply all of our electrical needs would themselves change the flow of the atmosphere above. The redistributed heat may even warm the areas near the wind plants significantly. However, the temporary localized warmth of the expansive farms does not equal the permanent impact of global warming from burning fossil fuels. Yet, special interest groups that deny global warming – especially those determined to continue profiting from fossil fuel – would use this information to deter investment and decelerate the growth of this clearly beneficial project.
The future of the energy-from-wind project – in fact, the future of our planet – depends heavily on our ability to place the welfare of the earth before our individual ends, to consider future generations before our own very finite existence. Since matters of the weather and wind seem to toss us about in so many ways, we could benefit from sitting in the silence that followed Elijah’s Mount Horeb experience to listen for God’s direction. Maybe in an evening chair by a crackling fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa, while the Hawk whistles madly outside.
That’s what I’m doing. Speak Lord.
CARLTON JOHNSON is the operations officer for Johnson C. Smith Theological Seminary in Atlanta and associate minister at the First Afrikan Presbyterian Church in Lithonia, Georgia.
