Early morning fairies

There’s a tree shedding spring blossom in the courtyard outside of our window. In the morning the sun shines down in a narrow strip through the centre of the courtyard, though all the walls remain in darkness. The petals from the tree flutter through the strip of sunshine like fairies, turning to flakes of silver as they catch the light. They hover, dawdle and tumble as if with a mind of their own, sometimes just one, sometimes a flock of twenty or thirty swooping and looping through the early morning air. As the day progresses the sunlight moves and the illusion is dispersed, the fairies becoming white blossom once more.