Late afternoon, the sun is still hot but not as much as a few hours earlier. Time for a walk across the nearby meadows. The first breeze wafts gentle aromas whose origin is quite a mystery. Where do they come from? Can that tiny inconspicuous flowers be so potent to fill the air with such strong but delicate fragrance? The answer seems to be obvious.
Green meadows. Not only green, though. Omnipresent little wild flowers reflect the whole spectrum of light. Simple beauty in its prime. Do relish the view for it will be gone soon. Just like in the melancholy aria -reminder Ruggiero sings in Handel's "Alcina", bidding farewell to his beloved green meadows and shady forests: "one day you will lose all your beauty". So true, so sad and so implausible.
Green meadows. Not only green, though. Omnipresent little wild flowers reflect the whole spectrum of light. Simple beauty in its prime. Do relish the view for it will be gone soon. Just like in the melancholy aria -reminder Ruggiero sings in Handel's "Alcina", bidding farewell to his beloved green meadows and shady forests: "one day you will lose all your beauty". So true, so sad and so implausible.
Jarek
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