White Rhinoceros
In the spring there are dogwood trees that blossom. Blossom and wilt thereafter. Their alabaster petals plume outward and spread round and tremble under the wind. April's snowfall. The rains that fall water the roots and they bloom first when it warms. Rain that pounds and hammers; that shears the white foliage away and turns them green. Limbs assimilated to rest of the emerald spectrum that in time fades as well. So swift they come and they go. It's said such brevity calls us to greater appreciation of the here and now. The gift of the day. The hour in which we live, while we live. But it is easy to forget. The seduction of the next moment and the next after, leaving you myopic in their trailing dust. They are a matter of expectation and worry. And behind them are things that pass away irretrievable. To appreciate the here and now. "Seize the day." That is the challenge, the goal. But there is another side to that coin. When you take the hard look at the temporal, ...