To be a gust of wind in the Himalaya.
Impressive gusts of wind in the Himalaya that no one can stop. Hardly takes rest. The wind rushes in at whim and then vanishes into thin air. Magic like.
What’s it like to be a gust of wind?
Every day the wind is profuse, the constant flow of air around me, and yet I can’t get enough of it. How can I ever? I remember living in the cities, gasping in the dull stillness of the streets. I remember the silence of the wind.
What’s it like to fly through the mountains like a phantom — felt but unseen?