At the edge of the gate and the driveway is our Harsingar tree, it is big. The passage under its spread is flooded with the delicate flower these three months. We feel guilty stepping over the carpet of inverted orange tubes each day. And the best part is to observe the flowers (from the floor above) as they separate from the branches and fall early in the morning. The petals spin like a pinwheel gathering momentum as they touch down. In the evening, their fragrance is heady.