Its early in the morning. A gentle mist still clings close to the grounds, and the air is still damp and cold. The sun has just awakened and slowly climbs out of the horizon; its shine, creating shadows on a land that only moments ago was itself a shadow. And all creatures great and small begins to stir, save for the nocturnals.
In a small patch of garden, the plants awake, dripping tiny droplets of dew that settled during the cold night, and the flowers begins it bloom, spreading its petals wide, lending more colours to the land and in the process, making it more beautiful with each touch of the sun's ray.
Nearby, a mother sits with her child, soaking in the warmth of the sun as well as the splendour of this world God Almighty has created. In between the sun's rise on the horizon and several notches above, this garden is a heavenly place for the mother and her child.
I was just browsing the net looking for nothing in particular and suddenly, something triggered my memory of a story I once read as a primary school kid. Somehow, the story fascinated me then. But as the years roll by with life unfurling new events, a child tried to grow beyond his age. And the story that once fascinated him, is pushed to the back of his mind, only to be triggered later by other events that are not even remotely attached to the story - The Purloined Letter.
As I hate reading long materials on line, I just skimmed through the story and found it disturbingly different than the one in memory. Could it have been an entirely different literature I was reading then, or the circumstance I read as a child were? For if the memory is right, then the settings of the story I read then was in London, and not in France as the one I just read.
With the sun climbing ever nearer to its peak, a petal falls to the ground below, revealing a sight that is less in beauty, of small insects scurrying within the flower trying to feed on the nectar or other edibles within. The child cries at such a sight, unknowing that such very acts of the insects allowed the flower to bloom in the very first place.
Forgive me if I am unable to expand on this.