a tree and a windmill have something in common.
the wind.
no, I mean, the wind that blows at them.
but no again, I mean that they have to somehow stay upright for the wind to blow at them at full force.

I enjoyed that moment when the wind blew and the leaves swayed.
I marvelled at how the stationary (not quite) windmill could move with such grace.
a gush of wind is all it takes to make me notice these little strange happenings.
it is easy to reduce this phenomenon into a science.
But it is at the felt level that intrigues me. It is not how, it is why that matters to me.
and henceforth, the why compels me to feel.

what I felt then, I found no words to express them.