A Gentle Spin

A bright yellow pinwheel stood planted in the dark mulch beside the sidewalk. I stepped off the paving stones and planted my front feet firmly near the border, taking my time to inspect the curved plastic petals. Raising my trunk, I brushed the tip against the outer edge of a vane with steady, deliberate pressure. It yielded instantly, spinning into a swift, silent blur. The rush of motion fanned a tiny puff of air against my ears. I held completely still, watching the golden swirl gradually slow until each blade settled quietly back into position.