Yesterday I drove past the crabapple trees
whose blossoms were so white and branches so strong.
And the blossoms were all gone.
Where did they go? Here they are:
Where did they go? Here they are:
And the tree shows hardly a trace of its former glory.
Driving home, I was thinking of how quickly
the crabapple blossoms had come and gone,
and how their snowy white blooms had turned a soft gold,
and how people had driven right through them without even a second thought.
Then I glimpsed something I'd never seen before
even though I have driven through the same intersection a thousand times
over the last decade. Through the rain on my windshield,
I saw an avenue of pink snow.
It was breathtaking, this hush of pink blossoms wafting down from the trees.
I drove further into a beautiful setting.
Returning the way I came:
Meeting beauty in the midst of the mundane,
along an avenue of pink snow.
Now that's encouraging.
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