evening...puff-puff, twirling

...primrose.


A woman runs past me, plastic water bottle in hand, like a steam engine, carrying its own supply of motive power.


From the lime tree opposite the seeds twirl down. Groups of three seeds are suspended from single blade-like bracts, curved like some of the kites you now see. When there is no wind they motor straight downwards, and when there is a wind they fly forward like helicopters.