underneath the camellia tree that holds the wind-chimes and the string of party lights in the backyard, blossoms too heavy to be held by their branches drop to the ground with a thick *thud* ...but the leaf-blowers and rakes and weed-pullers will have to wait a little longer because some gusts of clever wind are swooping in to orchestrate one last flowery love song in appreciation of the flowers' glorious lives
