The wind tells you to run, to love and to explore. The wind tells you to remember that every autumn the leaves fall, and are swept away. The wind speaks of tumbleweed and of cold seasides, sand swept. The wind tells of atmospheric pressures and thermal convection, weather patterns cycling for 3 billion years. The wind can still feel pushes of ancient asteroids, the wing-beats of pterodactyls. The wind knows the slice of arrows, the birth of airplanes, and is still unsure what to think of the taste of radio-signals. The wind has smashed ships into rocks, planes into water, and washed civilizations under desert sand. The wind wants you to know it enjoys this, and the wind wants to remind you – just like a sandstone cliff, you too will erode.