You loiter on the mountain, reading off the numbers of pi on this winter morning. Everything is so perfect, so mathematical here. You view it as delicate. Not in the sense that it will break apart at any moment, more in the sense that there are smaller, more subtle things to be enjoyed on this mountain, which is why you loiter here doing math.

Ah! Of course! The delicate bumble bee (び), that is your epitome of delicate. It lands upon your finger, and you look at its every fiber of being.