Leonardo da Vinci once said: "The eye, called the window of the soul, is the chief means by which the intellect can most fully and magnificently contemplate the infinite works of nature."
The "windows" on Sforza Castle's outer wall were just the right size for pigeons to nest in. Perhaps Leonardo da Vinci observed these pigeons and recorded detailed notes and sketches of birds in flight, analyzing how they maintained balance, moved, steered, dived, and rose while flying. These writings were all in mirror script.
In dreams, one could fly as high or as far as one wished. Compared with the complicated traffic rules on the ground, there were no restrictions in the sky. Sirius and Harry could ride flying motorcycles or brooms as fast and as far as they liked.
But adopting a Hippogriff like Buckbeak required the ability to cast the Disillusionment Charm, while driving a flying car required things such as invisibility spray.
Pomona had once seen the star-shaped square before the Arc de Triomphe in twentieth-century Paris. There were no lane markings at all, yet as long as it was not rush hour, traffic still flowed smoothly, with no congestion in sight—pedestrians and Citroëns simply whizzed past, obeying some invisible traffic rule.
If you were on a highway and saw that every car except your own was driving against traffic, would you correct everyone else?
Besides refusing to yield to one another, there was another situation: all the vehicles kept to the right, and the road was wide enough for two-way traffic. But one carriage suddenly switched into the other lane because its driver was desperately in a hurry, and there were no vehicles coming from the opposite direction.
It charged onward until it finally encountered oncoming traffic. Horses were not machines; they could be startled