Remembering Newfoundland: Fluid Environment

Like fish in water, people generally overlook the fact that we live in a fluid environment. Unless, of course, it develops a current that we are forced to admit we swim in. 100 km/h winds definitely have more direction and force than the more buoyant regular air pressure we bob around in on average days. This wind is a tumultuous river compared to a calmer days’ walk in a lake. The rapidly passing atmosphere also creates a real feeling of how asphyxiation might occur out in the middle of all that air: what if you can only draw rarefied low-pressure air into your little lungs, or worse, the low-pressure feels like it’s sucking the air out of you. The environment breathes you, and pop! one less oxygen-sucker on the planet. Trees at high altitude hint at what high-pressure life would look like. Tall and spindly, it’s easy to see they are having a hard time sucking what they need out of the air. (Kinda like the high-pressure/low-nutrition world of supermodelling, although why and what they’re sucking is probably very different.) You’d think at the rate we cut them down and humiliate them with our fecal bathroom rituals we were competing for the same airy resources, but we aren’t.( From a tree-evolutionary perspective, in tree history, what kind of monsters are humans? We wreak their genocide, then mangle and mash the corpses into a paste which we dry and subsequently use to clean our very dirty orifices. What ring of hell does a tree go to for that, and for what sins, in tree lore?)
What would happen if everyone on the planet—everyone human, at the least—inhaled and exhaled at the same moment? Would we have to plan it, the breathing of the planet, or would it just come like the inevitable genius of the billionth typewriting monkey? Would the giant Morpho in the sky flap its wings and counteract that concerted contraction and expansion or would we be left on our own, sucking each other in then blowing each other away? I believe in the giant Morpho in the sky. And I believe in the flying spaghetti monster too, or I at least believe they could be mythical cognates of one another.
The water in the toilet waves every time the wind pushes against the house. Is the water staying plumb still with the rest of the house moving around it? Golly! In Newfoundland you get your sea legs on land!