Darkness fell at Butchart Garden. Even when the surrounding is devoid of light, I can feel the breathing of the plants while waiting for my companions shopping for souvenirs.
Plants and I have connections as a living organism on earth. We feel the joy and sorrow, happiness and grief, peace and turmoil … we communicate without speaking.
A drop of water formed on the leaf.
I am jealous of this single drop. I wanted to cry with the leaf. A single tear will help. Will make me feel better. Will begin to be alive. Will cleanse me. But I cannot.
Maybe one day, my emotions will come back.
I hope so too.
Your words that accompany the photo are very sad and at the same time stunning.
Intriguing poem… I loved Butchart Gardens. (Especially the pig! :D) We spent a whole day there a few years ago.
Butchart Gardens. Magic.
This is so sad, beautiful but sad. I hope it’s purely fiction.It