With the wind behind them

We are on our quixotic quest when we pause to unfold the sail of our map. We trail blue and yellow lines with our fingers. A man stops. He says we look lost. And although we think our fingers have the truth beneath their tips he gently shows us we have gone kilometres in the wrong direction. Look there is a sign. He smiles and says children get lost like this, when they have the wind behind them on the beach. He says we have to turn back if we want to find the windmills.