keep the wild inside

Driving across the USA last December, I found a group of birds buzzing around an abandoned windmill. Had to drive over shrubs and stone off the highway to get close, and then parked and sat on a wooden corral railing for 15 minutes waiting for them to come within range. Noticed they were constantly swirling around the windmill, the only tall structure in sight. Why? The ineffective energy source and the deep blue sky just heightened the mystery for me, and the threat of impending plague seemed also to remind me to get out of the city, away from population density. It was at this moment, or at least around this time, that I began to think seriosuly about moving from Lalalandia to Taos. From dessert to desert. From descent to decent. And now when I write my stories, the birds will always be in them, a reminder of shocks to come, of a lifestyle different to anything we've known.