Yesterday the winds blew, the taps played, and the guns shot off their memorial sounds. I live close to a very big cemetery. I walk through it regularly, and drive by when I am doing car errands. All day yesterday, the bells played their music. The taps played at 10, noon, and 3. The guns shot off a salute to fallen soldiers. Most of the day I was home, working inside as the winds blew. I watched the "helicopters" from the huge huge maple tree next door spill its seeds. The patio and walk that Myah had swept clean the day before was filled with new helicopters. Thousands of helicopters twirling down everywhere. Seeds twirling in space, while I reflected on memories, those lost, what it means to be a patriot, who had died in a real helicopter, who had driven one, who was the nurse that rushed to help? All these thoughts, on Memorial Day, as I watched as the my patio was once again covered with helicopters as they silently whirled to the ground.
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