This rose was beautiful last Wednesday. Today it’s gone. The place thereof remembers it no more.
I like taking pictures of flowers for exactly that reason: they’re fleeting and beautiful, just like time. Just like every one of us that walks upon this earth. Everything, said Solomon, is beautiful in its time.
Matthew 6: 28-30
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?