I watched her with wonderment
She ignored the signs and stepped onto the freshly damp soil
Treading lightly, so as to not shift the undisturbed earth, she gently pushed aside the larger branches and surrounded herself amongst the delicate, vibrant flowers
Her burgundy winter jacket matched the darkest of the petals.
With gentle, languid movements, she reached out to a pastel purple flower and held it tenderly in her slight, pale fingers
Bringing it closer towards her face, cold from the crisp autumn air, she lingered for a moment to inhale its sweet perfume
A moment later, she released it from her feeble grasp
She was lost in the flowers’ beauty: in their vibrancy, fragility and magnificence. To me, however, their beauty did not compare to hers
As my friend stood motionless on the wet, damp earth, sedated by the flowers’ simple and unassuming beauty, I watched her in total awe.