We spend all of our lives trying to find meaning in them, as if the living are somehow distinct from every other object traversing through time. This is convenient as a means to isolate ourselves from our environment, but the belief is false.
Life at its foundation is nothing more than a complex chemical reaction that if we're lucky lasts a hundred years or more in human form. We're conscious because we perceive ourselves to be. We are aware of ourselves because that's what we have to work with, what is close at hand.
This makes us alive. And why not the wind?