I love moments when I see my perspective shift on something. I tilt my psychological head and, bam! things are suddenly different.
I was driving to the hospital to see mom. The Vermont hills, peppered with farms and cows, rolled before me, small towns and communities rising up and fading away. The green scenery swaddled me in its splendor; an occasional tree hinted at autumn.
I rounded a turn. There on the hill before me was a display of a half-dozen windmills.