Field Flight Test

I squeezed beneath the wooden courtyard gate and marched along the sidewalk to the pocket park. Near the edge where the lawn meets the curb, a tall dandelion clock stood upright like a miniature silver dome. I planted my boots firmly in the clover, measuring its height against my shoulder. The cluster was completely intact. Leaning close, I drew in a steady breath and blew firmly across the sphere. Dozens of feathery parachutes detached at once, lifting into the morning air and drifting in a tidy diagonal line across the grass. I stood watching until the last glider touched down safely.