There were little red roses and lush irises and showy peonies. They bloom at the same time. But not necessarily every year.
Their incredible blossoms are so short-lived, I just sat there admiring their loveliness and trying to imprint their essence into mine. The roses petite and pretty. The irises soft and pungent. The peonies puff balls of aromatic white petals -- just watch out for the ants!
In front of me was the entire life cycle. Buds ready to bloom, flowers in full glory, and wilted flora at the end of their performance. I couldn't stop thinking about how short-lived everything is, relatively speaking. And, at the same time, how clichè my thoughts were.
Instead, I decided to just sit and soak in all the loveliness, admire the setting sun and the warm spring evening.
And let it go at that.
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