Windy, windy weather and sudden rain squalls after our little burst of sunny weather. The blossoms on the trees near my flat and on Princes Street are falling as the leaves grow out. A small shower of white and pink petals covering the pavement in random floral patterns. Tonight as I came home the wind caught the fallen blossoms and whipped them up into the air. They arced up and around me, spiralling, diving, soaring – it was if the fallen petals were dancing for me, a last little burst of joy in their brief lives, spreading colour and perfume through the air. Think on the dancing polythene bag caught in an updraft in American Beauty and you can get close to the idea. A tiny moment of dynamic and ephemeral beauty in the fading evening sunlight.