Dawn broke gently, soft honey lancing light spilling over hills, trees, into gardens, shadows dancing then retreating as the sun rose higher. Crisp morning air, light, cool, alive, calming the frenzied wake-up call of mornings' early risers. And in the midst of it all, a flower, soon to bloom.
As it felt the suns vibrant rays ripple and play over its bright young leaves, the plant delighted in the taking in of air though leaves, the nutrients through the its roots, the cool breezes of the morning. The energy, the life, the pure simple joy of the thing.
Shyly peeping, a bud, formed, complete, ready to open to the world. It's protective covering begining to draw clear to reveal the blush red of a simple flower. Energy from sun and earth could be seen to be pulsing though the bloom, encouraging it to come forth. Slowly, gradually, surely, the bloom grew in confidense, grew prouder, stronger, opening to the light of day. Curious bees and butterflies came, admiring the young bloom. Its beauty was tempoary, it would fade, but that was part of the attraction. For in this, it would be all the more beautiful for the passing.
At last, it was free, and it's sweet scent spilled over into the May day garden.