Dewdrops



The glory of morning sun is encapsulated in dewdrops. Thousands of them. Slowly dripping from leaves and on to the ground, one after another. Some fragile looking but dazzling yellow and white flowers covered in mist are bathing in soft sun. A botanist friend of mine would have known their names; and boasted at length all the scientific details. And here I am, watching them and blessed not to have encumbered with such intrinsic knowledge. For things appear profoundly beautiful when you do not attach names and meanings to them.

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