wind blows deeply

When I was little, my family used to go on these vacations. We didn't stay in hotels or go to famous places or anything like that. We'd all load into the station wagon and head off. After we'd driven all day, we'd stop at some camp site and set up our tents and make dinner.
On one of these trips, when I was 8 or 9, we stopped for lunch at a camp site and I went off to explore. There were the tallest black spruce trees I'd ever seen in my whole life all around. There was also this fence that stretched in either direction for as far as I could see. It was so high that I couldn't see over it.
In those days I was really a pretty good climber, and I'd had quite a lot of experience climbing back home. In fact, I'd climb just about anything. But this fence was simply not climbable. So my only option at this point was to find the tallest tree I could find. And then I had an idea -- if I could see all this, just imagine what I could see if I climbed even higher!
So I continued my ascent. Now, I knew all about climbing, given my prolific experience, and I knew that there was a limit to the weight any given branch would support. As I continued, I carefully analyzed each branch, one by one I made my way further up the tree.
There it was, the top of the tree. A few feet above my head. The branches weren't as thick in front of my face, and as I parted them to view the expanse below a strange sense swept over me and began rushing by.
Branch after branch whipped past my head. I kept reaching and trying to grab ahold of something, anything. Although I don't remember it, I must have hit some branches on the way down because I remember things slowing down. Then, after either moments or eternity, I was finally able to grab one of the lower set of branches before dropping myself to the ground.
And that's what happened the day I climbed the tree to see over the fence,