Photo © 2017 Sarah Tesar
Photo: Sarah Tesar
Words: Andrew Hall
A time and a place for everything. All things, they inherently come and go. Through this process lies beauty. Every step of the way. Inception to growth, thriving life to peaks and valleys. The magical halfway point before the hill crests and dips back down. Down, down.
Colours don’t fade. They change, change to other colours. But look at it – just look at it wither and fade and dull with time and age. And how glorious. How lucky we are to fade. Immortality is a falsehood. A pipedream we’d love to surf, but we know. We know we’d take no joy in it, after long enough.
To everything, the song says, there is a season. And more than that there’s more than one. If we can’t enjoy the winter as much as the summer then we don’t deserve the sun. But we do, and we do. The sun will shine all year and it will all come back. With or without us.
We don’t really weep for flowers. Because we know the cycle. The brown leaves get covered in white and then start anew. Rising up again, like children. Like the future. Look at it grow. And remember it always will.
© 2017 Andrew Hall Writes