Spinning the Pinwheel

I walked down the sidewalk toward the community garden and spotted a bright striped pinwheel planted firmly among the marigolds. Its folded blades hung completely motionless in the quiet afternoon air. Curious to see it in motion, I stepped onto the dark mulch and raised both paws toward the lowest petal. With a firm, playful flick of my wrist, I pushed it forward. The pinwheel instantly leaped into a whirring circle of crimson and gold, humming softly as a cool rush of breeze brushed across my face. I leaned in close, watching the dizzy colors spin until they finally slowed to a gentle flutter.