It’s as though, sometimes, nothing’s clear. And you are, really, just floating on a passing wind. And though you know not where you’re going, you feel content just to keep on floating. For what is more naturally occurring than the air, which we breathe? And if it is good enough to sustain the human life, why then, should it be any less suitable for traveling?
For what is more naturally-occurring than a fleeting, passing wind?