Pin-Wheels

The wind was blowing and I must say it was a hard wind. I knew it was out of the west because of the trees in the yard.  They were all bent over like a blade of grass.

I put the pinwheel into the garden to keep birds away and that the groundhogs wouldn't get a free meal. 

Then the pinwheel stopped. It just stopped. I walked over and looked. It looked as if there was nothing wrong with it. I reached down and gave it a spin. All the parts moved freely.

Stepping back, I looked over my shoulder. The wind was blowing. It was blowing hard. The trees are still bending.

The pinwheel stood silent. Why? I could only guess. Again, I checked it. Everything looked fine, I thought to myself. I could feel the wind blowing on my face and in my hair and the pinwheel still did not move.

And then a feeling, a weird feeling. Ghost-like. The wind stopped and the pinwheel spun. Like someone or something gave it a spin. Round and round it went making a wishing noise. It was steady and it got louder. Faster the pinwheel spun. Wishing noise, wishing noise. I watched, no wind, dead still. Pinwheel.

The wind picked up the pinwheel spun; the day went on. Who, What, Where, When? But! who am I to question such a thing?