The trees stir. Moving effortlessly in their ever constant dance with the restless.
The wind is felt but not seen, and therefore it lends itself heavily to the abstract imagination. We can use the symbolic relationship of the wind moving the tree to apply some sort of understanding in our own lives. There are endless examples like this in nature, and we have seen them for thousands of years, and yet we are still enraptured. We still find meaning in modern antiquity.
Because we still need help. Because we are alone. We need to understand how we work. How everything works. We need to separate what we idealize from what is real, which means we need to determine reality. Maybe this is impossible to some degree. I don't think that that matters though. I think that what matters is we investigate with what we have, and forget whether or not we can ever truly interpret reality. Because what does it matter. Our limit becomes reality. We are limited in physical life. We are limited in our mental lives. We have rules. We have structure. Loose those and we may find freedom. But we might also no longer be ourselves.