Suddenly, just as the morning sun cleared the trees, a Water Iris brightened its beautiful face and announced its colorful presence.
Even if I had not been there to see the ten-second display of color, the Iris would have been beautiful. It does not depend on us to appreciate it, and it is not that way to please humans. It is what Nature determined it would be to procreate with the help of insects and wind-blown pollen. It does not need training or nurturing; it is doing what it was genetically designed to do: be a flower that will make new members of its genetic kind.
As humans, we forget that we are what we are, and that is to be alive and make more of ourselves. We are the ones who generate the angst and ponder philosophical questions regarding our purpose in life and wonder what our real purpose is.
So much fiddle-faddle.
We are born of the Earth, just as was the flower; no more, no less. There is no other purpose other than justto be and to continue our species. We change our environment to shape it to our needs and wants, and foolishly behave in a way we interpret as being our destiny. That is our interpretation and justification for changing the things Nature has worked on for a billion years.
The flower was placed in its niche and very likely does not worry about philosophical questions. It remains a flower that meets our concept of beauty, but would remain exactly as it is with or without our approval or acknowledgement. It accepts nature's mandate of just being
As I passed the flower, a magical sunbeam made a moment I thought worth capturing. In capturing, processing, and waxing philosophically to commit that moment to my memory, I have spent more moments of my time of which there will be no memories at all.
Time has passed for me and for the flower. I suspect neither of us will be better or worse at the end of our timelines for the brief moment.
Although it changes the mood, the instant I saw the flower's bright colors, I recalled a conversation with 
Living too long in a moment can easily transition from appreciating the beauty of something into a time consuming philosophical journey that leads nowhere.
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