running away from
the drowning
picking and swallowing
wildflowers
she remains drenched
in the smell of
a million thoughts

An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write

We are always surrounded by the beauty of everyday life. In a small field close by, there was an ocean of flowers. I took my fiance by the hand and told her to swim with the flowers. She took the challenge and drowned in the flowers. Yellows and whites, and some other colours if you look very closely. But mostly the yellows and whites covered the green of the grass.

It felt like a scene from a movie, one in which the girl of your dreams, or the girl in your dreams, runs through the wind, allowing the flowers to coat her feet like a thousand hugs from the flower petals.

One almost wants to write poetry about the event, of the magical moment.

We need reminders of our existence in nature, and not just alongside it. Are our faces not like the thousands of wildflowers in the field, shining with happiness when the sun casts its rays?

We are always reminded of bad news, of how bad things are, and are getting. But this does not allow us to see the beauty surrounding us. Fleeting, vanishing, but concrete, present, in their smallness.

We did not pick these flowers, only imitating the movement. We leave them behind so that they can produce the next year's flowers, so that they become food for the thousands of insects, bugs, and organisms, that feed on their existence. If we picked the flower for our own personal gain, a world could have been ruined. We looked, and touched, but we did not take anything besides the memories and the photographs.

And so we say goodbye to these flowers in their fleeting beauty. As they merely remind us of the changing seasons, they indicate the moving from winter into summer, with their beauty dying off as soon as the summer heat finds them. For now, we will see some of them greet us as the sun shines, but we will also see other things growing beside it, over them, in them.

For they are spring flowers, showing us that there is hope left...

We are also fleeting creatures, moving from season to season.

Happiness only emerges after a moment of rain, like wildflowers in a random field on this moving planet.

I hope that you find your wildflower.

For now, happy photographing and stay safe.

All of the musings and writings are my own, albeit inspired by these beautiful flowers. The photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Nikkor 50mm lens.

Drowning in Wildflowers | Ecency