The Dandelion Puff

I waddled down the porch steps and followed the crunching gravel all the way to the edge of the lawn. Right between two smooth river stones grew a tall, perfect dandelion clock, packed tight with fluffy white parachutes. I paused, tilting my head with patient focus to study how the tiny seeds clung to the green stem. It looked remarkably delicate! Stepping forward with steady balance, I puffed out my chest, leaned my beak as close as I dared, and blew the sharpest, fiercest puff of air I could muster. Whoosh! A cloud of silken stars burst into flight, dancing into the midday sun.