Windmills in daylight, up close, move quickly and separately at first. Then slow down and synchronize. Almost freezing. At night, their red lights warn pilots of the physical obstacle. But the light doesn't always illuminate the blades. The lights shine, an eerie glare, that abruptly shuts off.

From a distance the repeating pattern is hypnotic. As you get closer you start to sense the movement. Something large sweeps across the light in a gentle slipping curve. Something long and thin, like a tentacle. #amwriting