At the falling rain petals of the field are drenched with the watering of the sky. Each flower adorned in glory fills with the moisture that it needs to live, but in a moment when there is more than enough, the water runs from the Iris down the petal to the ground. In that moment the flower is bent and pulled over, as if to weep for what tragedy we may never know. It is just enough to know that even the most beautiful adornments of the field can appear to feel sadness.