I’ve got a small flower bed in front of the house. I planted some bulbs of daffodils and tulips last November, and watched their growth. Come the spring, a long-waited sun and warm breeze, and the bulbs have grown to a beautiful flowers. One by one, however, they started conspicuously disappear.
There’s a school up the road, and pupils pass by the house in hurds. In the morning and in the early afternoon. Suspect the flower-picker is amongst them. I may be wrong, but how can a decent soul pick flowers from someone else’s garden?
It clouds my soul, as much for the lost flowers as for the world that bears the souls lost brilliance and decency.