this harp concerto, which always picks me up. (I have a theory about music which I will share with you another day.)
There is a tall blossoming tree about fifteen yards up the track from our house. You can't see it from the back yard, but it sticks out from the surrounding oaks and ash trees because at the moment its in full flower, a pillar of white pompoms.
As I was sitting there in the back yard, my harp music reached a beautiful, twinkling solo section. The wind blew. And suddenly the air was filled with whirling petals from the blossom tree, seeming to dance in time to my music. I was instantly enveloped in snow-flurry of delight. It was utter magic. How did the petals know what the beat of the harp music was? I have no idea. I'm just glad that they did.