The humid air hangs in a mild golden hue with the sounds of the dusk kissing the wind. It is late afternoon and the dancing butterflies create silhouettes against the deep colours of the setting sun as they swirl and rise up against the warm air that wraps around her. She feels the energy sifting through her hair just as the long stalks of grass are pushed as one by the breeze. She drags her fingers behind her, playfully catching the tops of the flowers that grow wild all around her. This is her Arab spring, to be remembered long after the sun has gone.