close your eyes and feel the wind blow through your hair

This is my desktop. That's real graffitti on James Island.

"It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better." -- Robert Frost, Birches

... And cool your perfect body and blow away the cross you used to bear.