"... so i can feel the wind on my face"

i don't know why. it is the middle of summer. humidity reigns supreme now and home is dry and stagnant but my thoughts are drifting to that cool crisp fall wind. the kind that forces you to inhale and at first shocks your lungs at its strength and coolness. but in turn it invigorates you. the kind that blows so hard at your back it pushes you a little further down your path. the kind that makes nature bow to it and compels you turn into it to keep your hair out of your eyes. the awesome power of wind. the majesty and intricacy of it.

i long to be the wind. just as anderson made ariel sacrifice herself and become sea foam i long to vanish from this homo sapien realm and dissipate into the gale that brushes my brothers' and sisters' cheeks.

why you ask should i desire such an odd transformation? can't you see?! the wind blows around the whole earth. what gust pushes us today, did just the same in Romania yesterday. someone else on the other side of the globe was surrounded by the same presence as i am today. wind is universal. it sees no boundaries or distinctions. it knows no limits on earth. and no one on earth can limit it. it is free. but know, i do not desire to be thus changed for ultimate freedom. no no. just the reverse. i want to be the wind to be controlled. true, no human can contain it but something higher does. it has no control over where it will blow next. only the God of the Skies twists its mass where He wills. it doesn't know where it will blow and it doesn't care. it doesn't know how forceful it will burst in or ask why it's not softer or harder.

i do not long to be this element because it has no memory or identity. on the contrary! it has a past. everywhere is passes through, the people and animals lift their faces and sniff the zephyr for what it carries in it. the wind brings with it the mark of where it has last been: the mysterious spice of the east, or the romantic perfume of the continent, or the pure ice of the north. it tells each and everyone the story of its journey of whence it has just come. however, it tells only of where it has presently been. it can't tell the stories of long past. has it forgotten the sites and smells of places far away in it's travel or just become mute? still the change is the same. the wind has a past but only for a short time can it tell it.

moreover, it has no planned future. it does not chart and plan its next route. only its Creator can do this. and it is not able to bulk at its heading. only does it willingly comply to its direction. and bring its effect either soothing or fearful on the creatures in its path. if its effect be judged pleasant or ill by those touched it can't and won't do anything about it but move on to the next place it is bidden.

still, there remains one last aim for which my heart yearns. reason with me. what is the wind? there is no immediate answer is there? the wind is nothing but a conglomeration of other things. in and of itself it has no substance. wind is simply air that is pulled about quickly. and the air at this pace catches and brings particles and pieces of smell with it. but the wind is nothing. it has no body. nothing anyone can see. but it does bring change. the strongest wind makes the trees cower to its power and the gentlest breeze makes a child smile.