What would it be like to be the wind?

I am sitting at a desk looking out the window watching the wind play with the trees in my yard, and I find that I am in a fanciful and inquisitive mood. What would it be like to be the wind? You are no longer just air, but air in forceful motion. Is the wind always playful, or does she sometimes feel thoughtful, pensive, angry or sad? Does she fly through the air, or soar? What is it like to maneuver through the skies and cut through or move all within your path? What does the wind do when the air doesn’t feel inclined to be well…windy? Does the Wind have a county home for when she want’s to get away? Does she like the twinkling sounds of chimes, or does the noise grate at her nerves? What happens when the wind becomes tired? What is the language of the wind, and what would she say to you if you could understand? Oh I have so many questions I think I shall just have to ask a local genie for the favor to become the wind for a day or a year to learn for myself. When I find out I promise to tell you all what I find.