It was hot and humid, another ten hour day. It was perfectly still. I was nearing the end of my route, with about ten minutes of walking left.
Slowly I became aware of a sound, both familiar and strange.
It was the sound of wind chimes ringing.
I looked around, and there, on a second story porch, above a garage, I could see the chimes swaying.
I looked around. Not a leave was stirring, not a blade of grass moving.
I thought there must be an explanation, an exhaust fan, maybe a dryer vent, or maybe because it was higher up there was a breeze.
So I walked over to the house and up on the porch.
Standing directly under the chimes I could feel no stir of air. But they were ringing, and the guitar pick shaped wooden windcatcher was swaying.
What I felt wasn’t quite the Fear of God; I knew that there were other explanations for supernatural events. It was something more primal; an awe and dread in the presence of the numinous, of something for which there was no natural explanation.
I should note that these chimes are large; the biggest one is around a yard long. It takes quite a breeze to move them. I have, as you can imagine, kept my eyes on the things since that strange day, and several times there has been a palpable wind: I could feel it on my cheek, and I could see the leaves moving and the grass swaying. But while the windcatcher moved, the chimes did not ring.
But one day a couple of weeks ago I stood directly under them and saw them move and heard them ring.
And there was no wind.