observed with a grain of sand. and some uprooted trees in 11218 There was a neat little pile of sand in my bathroom this morning. It was nice, clean sand, maybe half a bucket full of it. Very neatly arranged. There are no windows in the bathroom and the sand was also nowhere near any openings in walls. The answer to to the question why there was a nice little pile of clean sand in the middle of my bathroom on the 10th floor of a 16 floor building was somehow painted in very broad strokes on the other side of the building, in front of it, on Ocean Parkway between Caton Avenue and Church avenue in Kensington. It might have been five trees or so, adult trees, tall trees, pulled out of the ground and smashed onto parked cars. It looked as if something went down the block and picked the trees very selectively, before moving around the corner and pulling out one more. There were at least two crushed cars. Really broken. Right down the center of their roofs. Halfway down the block the giant visitor must have turned picky. Only one side mirror was ripped off a prius and placed neatly on the windshield near its wipers. It really did look as if a tornado touched down. (It turns out it did.) But in my bathroom? I wonder what it might have looked like when the wind brought the nice sand from somewhere between here and staten island. When it spat it through the air-ducts, all the way into that bathroom, I assume spinning the grains the entire time, and then arranged it in a little message from the outside. Beautiful handwriting for something that sounds like a train when it dances its dance of destruction. And what is it really, a very elegant expression of difference in air pressure. Some of the most powerful things might only appear to us to be things. As they carry things. Though are not objects themselves.