This is a gorgeous story. But I have to say ... I can read the wind. I can't read it as well as a dog, but much better than most humans. A lot of that is just plain practice: I've spent decades learning to read the wind with the nose that I have in this life. I know the smell of rain and snow and clear sunshine. I know the smell of plants beginning to grow in spring and ceasing to grow in autumn. I know the smell of a compost pile when it starts to work and when it is done working because it has become soil. I know the smell of cattle, swine, horses, skunks, bison, and many other animals. I can tell the difference between the smell of cherry blossoms, pear blossoms, crabapple blossoms. I can lean over food and taste it with my nose nearly as well as with my tongue.
So I look at a story like this, and I'm not reading along with the human, I'm reading along with the dog.
The first of the Wind Stories is also online. Golly gee whiz, that's why this lady is a mistress of mythology and folklore.