Picture Perfect [Jincentric]

Day 4

The flowers make the wait a bit more bearable.

Today, they were shooting at a meadow.  The meadow is a glorious expanse of grass and meadow flowers, grass rustling gently in the breeze. There is a narrow brook flowing through it choked with weeds. Tall water-mint with pale lilac flowers, like dozens of tiny bells, are growing at the edge of the brook. 

He can never see flowers too many times, he can never tire of their sweet fragrance. Each one is a delicate bloom, no matter if it is a formal garden or a wasteland. Their petals are delicate works of art and their hues are medicine for his weary soul. He guesses it's not just him that feels that way though, we bring flowers into the hospitals and graveyards, we send them to express our love, we plant them in our yards though they bear no edible fruits. The city spends thousands replacing them along the streets and as soon as they brown more are brought in. There is something about their beauty he needs for his whole being, to be fully human, he wonders if we're all a bit like that. Without the flowers, it would only be concrete, and he thinks the drop in temperature would freeze his heart.  

It gives him a sense of comfort. For reasons he cannot adequately explain- It just does. 

Maybe it gives him an idealistic hope that the future will hold just as much beauty. 

He doesn't know. 

But today, he takes a picture of the ocean of flowers, washes of colour that paint his vision with a hope that maybe he'd be okay.