In front of the window, a pod "helicopter" spins downward as if enjoying the ride as it tumbles away from the trees. With no tree left with these pods anywhere in sight, it must have blown off the roof where it sat awhile. Across the street lies a bagged newspaper lying in the sidewalk, waiting. In a driveway, a trash can sits next to the lawn and flowering shrub where it must have accumulated brush days earlier, waiting to be emptied. All around us are things and people waiting for movement; waiting for life, for their moment to spin and be fully engaged in their purpose. Why wait? Do we only get one spin off the tree, or might we land on surface after surface if we jump off sooner...