Dust returns to dust; soil returns to soil; eventually, they will all return to the earth as they were.
I pick up flowers from my garden, place them in vases, and watch them withering as they dry. I envy them even when they are withering, as they are melting back to nature in the most beautiful way; I envy them as their postures are so elegant and free, leaving a lingering and mesmerizing fragrance.
As I reach my middle age, I feel the loss of youth daily and perceive my smallness. The river of life flows tirelessly, and we will eventually all disappear. Birds fly away without leaving a trace on the sky, but I hope I can leave a trace of my breath in the most beautiful memory of others and return to the dust with the most elegant posture. I hope that all women, like these short-living flowers, show their grace and beauty at every stage of their lives.
All images copyright Amy Zheng