I can watch the milk rush after an invisible something that retreats ahead of it. All of a sudden the pipes are flushed with white, pulsing, filling. A strange thing to say then, that nature abhors a vacuum. Maybe better to say it is consumed by it or consumes it. To see Steve's barn course with milk, though, I allow for such pathetic fallacies.
Milk is animate, acts as if it lives and thinks.
As it runs through the pipes, the milk seems propelled by a consciousness that might even be desire. The vacuum makes the milk come alive. Ah, this is a dairy barn, and it is easy to personify. Steve coos to the cows, fluffs a matted tail. Yes, the engine purrs.