Flowers

You are taking an early stroll through the park. Above in the spring trees grow thousands of tiny blossoms. In the soft light of the morning sun, their pastel rose tint shines with gentleness, resembling cotton candy clouds against a baby blue blanket of sky. They are bunched together, as if living together in families, each small bloom an individual life, and all of them connected through the bond of the thin, fragile, wheat-colored limbs extending from a tall, flourishing tree. Sunlight breaks through gaps in the trees and the sun's mild warmth embraces you amiably as a cool breeze blows by, carrying on it the sweet fragrance of the blossoms above you. It fills your nostrils and calms your mind. As the wind passes, a soft chorus of rustling above sounds and a few petals fall, caressing your skin with a touch as gentle as that of a baby. Landing in your hand, they feel as if they are so delicate, they could dissolve at the slightest touch. The relaxing scenery makes you feel like you are living a lifetime of happiness within a single, brief moment, as transient as a dream. You then continue on your walk.