All Around Me

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Listen to the air. It's not alive, not even full of myriad microscopic organisms in the same biologically replete way as the earth and sea are, but it does have a powerful story to tell.

Does its voice, its breathful cadence, stroke up? Do the tones of pure, unlungstruck wind furrow down, down, down?

Are there Loftwings nearby? Is Skyloft itself heavy, today?

Where in the symphony can your step and sweep fit? We're all up in the air; there's no choice but to be alive.

The sky conducts life all around.

Breathe out. Breathe in.