Let me enjoy today's festival

Alas, the lovely yellow Dahlia, humbled by the maiden snow pellets never woke up. She had the look of a bride awaiting her partner under the shade of the nuptial solitude, just a few days before. The single dahlia brightened the entire deck area and its beauty spilled over the dining hall penetrating through the glass partition-door. That overflow of calmly beauty was a festival.
I loved the fall of white pellets of snow when they rained from the sky like little angels. Why did they kill a flower, I wonder. Flowers are not to be killed. They should fade on their own. when their time is up.
I am sad, I am dispirited.
Hei, wait a minute; look around. look at these cheerful cherry and maples, paling pines and oaks.  It is as if one has stood high up in the sky, hiding behind the clouds, smiling mischievously and poured buckets full of colored water, over all the trees , everywhere in the garden , on the borders of the highways, in parks, in boulevards, in bushes and in small forests around here. What a color display ! Golden yellow, dazzling orange, pleasing purple with gorgeous green in between ! How could the Nature wrap so many trees with so many apparels of unbelievably absorbing colors, so generously, so artistically and in such a short time !
And the maple right across my window is fully soaked in a vibrant vermillion velvety solution !
I wish this colour show lasts for ever !
How foolish I am to expect a show to last for ever ! Shows never last. A few days before these multi-colour magic was not there and in a few days now on, that will cease to exist. Then the entire leaf-wealth of the trees will dry, shrink, shiver and shed on the mother earth and get dissolved in her bosom.
I am sad; I am dispirited.
Hai,  wait a minute. the leaves will come again; they will, I assure you. They will take a rebirth, bloom on the tree, rejuvenate her, enchant the birds, entertain the bees and elevate the spirit of the wind that will embrace. But when they come again, the same colors will not adorn them. But how does it matter ? When the next fall arrives, the naughty boy there high up in the sky, hiding behind the clouds will lavish these foliage with lovely colors again! What is there to worry ?
I am not sad; I am not dispirited. I am enjoying today’s  festival.
Baltimore. Nov 9, 2011
Copy right fully with the author