Helicopter Spin

Waddling up to the low drystone wall along Chatburn green, I spotted a pair of dried sycamore seeds resting flat on the sunlit sandstone. With their papery wings spreading wide, they looked just like a pair of tiny wooden propeller blades! Lacking hands to fling them into the air, I backed up a step and gave the joined stem a brisk little flick with my corduroy boot. The seed tumbled over the edge, caught the afternoon breeze, and began spinning down in a dizzy, whirlwind pirouette! Watching it whir like a frantic little whisk made my yolk jiggle with giggles, and I spun my round tummy in a clumsy circle to match its landing.