All Kinds of Minds

My favorite place to rest stop on long voyages from one home to the other.  Turning a sharp curve on I-90 I’m always humbled watching the slow rhythm of man’s ingenuity rising and falling against the vast desert. As a child, driving to Yakima with my dad I asked how they built those massive structures in the middle of nowhere. He admitted he wasn’t sure exactly, but later down the road we approached a caravan of semi trucks carrying parts of a windmill; two giant trailers for the base split in two, and another truck for all the blades. They were much bigger up close than I had fathomed.  I watched the fans spinning in the distance and wondered how the universe decides which questions to answer.