Needle Chase

I hopped onto the flat cap of the courtyard stone wall and spotted an open brass pocket compass catching the afternoon sun. The slender red needle was shivering slightly, locked straight onto north. I wasn't about to leave it on autopilot. Spotting a discarded iron washer wedged in a mossy joint, I scooped it up and bounded along the compass's milled rim. Leaning low over the glass, I dragged the washer in a slow circle. The magnetic needle snapped right out of alignment, chasing the iron around the dial like a radar sweep. Pure physics on demand. @amanda_andrade