What about umbrellas?
Umbrellas like parachutes--a plane full of paratroopers gliding to earth on unbrellachutes.
Or umbrellas for secret agent scuba divers to catch all their bubbles before they got to the top and gave them away.
What about umbrellas looped like bat's wings with tin bones extended and black nylon stretched tight, hooked feet to hold on to.
How about umbrellas that flap backwards in a gust of wind and try to fly away--what about a flock of migrating umbrellas?

What about fireworks?
Weeping cinder willows white hot in the sky.
What about fireworks from space? What would fireworks look like from space? Would you be able to tell the difference between a war and a celebration?
What about miniature fireworks that you could fire off inside on a rainy Fourth of July--the tiny rockets no bigger than a thimble bursting blooms like a bouquet on your kitchen table as everyone let out little 'oohs' and 'aahs'.

What about rain on a desert day that sets steam off the sidewalk when it hits the hot pavement? Or hot snow that freezes when it touches cold ground?

What about people who love each other and never had to feel differently no matter what happened or how far apart they were or how much time had past? What about love that could grow and grow until there was no room left inside but it stretched you and filled you and made you bigger like a balloon that wouldn't pop.