Wallflower has a garden that some say looks French because her mother is French Canadian. In this garden there are banana leaves, and a fountain that makes a pretty sound. There are faded pink roses all around. On this day there was a very black crow who drank and took a bath in this fountain of blinding light. He was the blackest of black, and the light on the water reflected and refracted like the sun. When I stepped closer he flew away, and the droplets of water flew off of him like mercury fireballs, like a crow halo. In this light, and with this crow, I knew I could write a song near this fountain.