The last flush of chamomile spills carelessly down the mountain.
It rolls like a tear of joy amongst the verdant lawns.
This though is the fading chapter of early spring.
Already the magnificent days-eye is making way for the next wave of flowers.
It is an easeful and gracious passing, they do not hold on to life, rather they pass the baton of being with joy.
Gently they sigh back into the encompassing earth and their legacy continues with the never ending cycles of life.
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Photo courtesy of the author.