Spinning Wheel

I jogged out past the front entrance and bounded straight toward the pocket park down the block. Right along the brick flowerbed, a bright plastic pinwheel was stuck firmly in the dark soil. Its rainbow foil petals were completely still. A stationary target? Not on my watch. I planted my boots in the grit, dropped into a solid stance, and puffed my chest full of air. Fwoosh! I blasted a sharp, focused gust straight at the blades. The wheel clicked, shuddered, and whipped into a screaming multi-colored blur! The rush of wind kicked up a sprinkle of dry pine needles around my toes. Pure lung power!