The Revery Alone Will Do, If Bees Are Few

Today, I was trying to relax after Church, but Asher, who was supposed to be napping, was crying, and Hugh was snoring very loudly on the couch.  So I went outside.  I took one of my trusty Calvin and Hobbes tomes with me and sat on a bench under the flowering plum tree outside our door.  The breeze was blowing, and the birds were singing, and a thousand tiny petals from the flowering plum tree were whirling around me in a warm pink blizzard.  And it was sublime.