The sky was vivid blue,

Practically too perfect to stare at,

And the leaves had darkened to an emerald green.

He ran a hand across the soft bark of a nearby redwood

Watching as white

And pink blossom

Petals danced in the

air, Perfuming it

as they fell.

Delicate little violets sprouted

In the undergrowth.

He listened to the dissonant chirping

Of the birds

Thinking how wonderful

This was going to be.

He stood suddenly, erect, proud,

Startling the birds

From their perches.

They left in a frenzy of feathers

And displaced air,

But he, with only a soft smile

As he stepped away from the

Swaying support.

It snapped taunt

Against the weight

And the beautiful little petals

 fell in a sudden,

Violent downpour

Flooding across him,

Crying for him.