“In short, all good things are wild and free.” ~ Henry David Thoreau
Just a drizzle, but enough to settle the dust and the dry dead leaves that the March wind raises up in a flurry…
Sunday morning dawned nice and clear, a cool breeze ushering in the smell of the wet earth through the open window..
In the midst of the concrete jungle we live and work in it is the simple little things in life that keep us sane.
One of them is this..the smell of the earth after a splash of rain has pierced its parched surface…
The flowers are looking prettier, more colourful, and the leaves greener now that the dust layer has been washed off of them.
We all, however, seem to have slept through a dust storm of sorts preceding the rains last night, usual at this time of the year here in Delhi.
The tell tale signs were everywhere – pigeon feathers, dry leaves and twigs flown in by the wind all over my balcony now soggy from the drizzle, muddy shoe prints on the corridors leading to the lifts and pawprints on the parapet alongside the stairs.
The resident ginger-cat enjoying a nightly prowl!
My thoughts flew to the enchanting tree of red flowers in that nursery I had discovered the other day!
A pretty little place alongside the busy highway! I had never noticed it earlier till P mentioned it the other day. It’s at the corner of an intersection I always zoom past ! (the red lights have been out of order for a while now and the police apparently makes a rare appearance, for I haven’t encountered any yet!! )
This tree – there were hardly any leaves on any of its branches. Instead it had burst forth into a brilliant shade of red with innumerable closely knit large flowers !!
It was taller than all others around it. And as if this was its cue to protect all smaller trees around, it had spread it’s branches above them all like an enchanting red umbrella embracing them in it’s shade.
They were everywhere, these flowers…
All over the grass, on the pots below, on the flower beds and even on the branches of other trees….they seemed to let go their hold and fall down to their death ever so easily.
As I had walked about the nursery that evening trying to make up my mind about which plants I wanted to bring home, I found myself repeatedly getting distracted by these lovely red flowers.
They made me sad..so lovely, yet so short lived.
Maybe like all things beautiful, they chose to be ephemeral..
‘Are they still holding on?’, I wondered as I took in the remainder of last night’s storm, ‘ Or did they yield ever so easily to it’s devastation?’