The wind is a near constant in our neck of the woods. And by woods, I mean scab rock, sagebrush, and dryland wheat fields. Our views are dynamic. You can see the sky for miles. But as a result we have little protection from gusting winds coming from the southwest. It blows and spits ferociously often leaving its moisture at the Pacific coast, blows through Oregon, and crosses the Columbia River to smack into us. Today it is warm, drying the plants and ground like the convection setting on your oven.
When we moved home we put the windbreak to the southwest of the house. A drip-line was installed and the trees get periodic doses of fertilizer. About 100 little sticks dropped into the ground in four and a half rows have now grown to the size of... small bushes. We expect that in six years we may have a decent stand of wind-breaking, shade-producing trees. But until then I look out at the horizon and see the wind, having picked up a light layer of dust and a tumbleweed or two coming toward us.