Once upon a time when I lived in a house covered in pea soup colored aluminum siding, there was a neighbor down the street who had a flowering tree in his front yard. I do not know what kind of tree it was, but it was the sort seen in pictures and landscaping catalogues. The petals were purple at their base, then blended into a warm white ... they always felt heavy, and they had a waxy scent to them. They were also very delicate, and when they fell, the slightest brush against the concrete would bruise them. When they had been trod upon too many times, they turned the same brown as an old leaf.

In the spring, my friend and I would collect as many petals as we could. The neighbor was happy, of course, as he didn't have to pay us to clean up his lawn. We were thrilled, for we walked away with plastic grocery bags full of these temporary treasures. They rotted in the garage and were soon thrown away, yet we never seemed to mind, and we went back year after year!

There are a lot of these trees in New City, and I sometimes have to resist the urge to clamber into people's yards and pick up as many petals as I can carry.