Journal: August 7th, 2018
The other day I was taking my morning walk when I noticed a flower. I walk almost every morning, weather permitting, on one of 2 set paths. One of them is about 4 miles, the other about a mile and a half. This happened on one of the 4 mile treks. The flower was quite pretty in its simplicity, purple petals on a thin, green vine, an ant exploring its center. It was poking out from between a branch that had split up into a perfect “V”. The flower was resting comfortably right in the middle. I pulled out my phone to take its picture. I always carry my phone with me when I’m walking-it tracks my steps and if I don’t have it in my pocket it will spend the entire day calling me a lazy bastard.
I take a lot of pictures of flowers, trees, bushes, weeds, rocks, or just about anything that strikes my fancy. Our photo collection on our computer consists of our animals, nature, New Orleans, and dick pics. That sounds funny, until you realize you set your computers screen saver to “photos” and Mom sits down just in time to see someones cock.
Even more fun when its my own.
Today I went for my 4 mile walk again and, as I approached the flower, I pulled out my phone to take another picture of it. To my surprise, the bloom was gone. The branch was still in the same spot, announcing victory to the world, but the flower had vanished, as if it had never been. I would have at least expected to see its petals burnished brown or perhaps torn or chewed by hungry insects. At the very least, the vine it was growing off of. But no, gone without a trace, my photo the only evidence that it ever even existed.
That’s natures way. Beauty now. Beauty gone. Happiness now. Happiness gone. I admit that I was saddened by the flower’s absence, but only for a minute. I took out my phone and looked at the picture from the other day, and I felt pretty special. How many people had the chance to see what I saw and didn’t bother to look, and how many would have cared enough to stop and appreciate a simple flower and a stick. I get to hold that moment as unique to me for as long as I have memory…and a full charge on my phone.