A Gentle Puff

I tiptoed through the front gate and padded along the sidewalk to the sunny garden border. Stuck firmly in the dark soil between two yellow marigolds was a small foil pinwheel. Its bright blades were resting completely motionless. I paused two careful steps away, waiting to see if the air would move them. When everything stayed still, I leaned close and puffed a soft, slow breath across the curled foil. With a gentle whir, the little petals spun into a blur of red, gold, and blue. I stepped back softly, watching the colors flutter until they gently slowed to a stop.