I have received two pots of beautiful assorted plants which I placed together in my garden. Their thriving beauty lasted only a couple weeks before they started to wither, despite my dedication to water them frequently. Not only did the flowers wither, the vivid green leaves have also turned yellowish. It made me sad just by looking at them.
Inside of the house, I also keep a few branches of plants. Not knowing the name of their species, I simply call these branches with tiny green balls attached the “green skewer”. The green skewers which I put in a bottle of water are very healthy, they continue to appear green and lively a few weeks after I started keeping them. It delights me when looking at them.
To beautify my plants, I trim the healthy branches and cut away the withered ones. Placing these branches side by side looks like a chronology of life. Every phase of life exists in relation to one another — the aged appears old in front of the youth, the youth appears in lack of history in front of the aged. One has no need to look into the bygone days or to foresee the future, since the youth and the aged are both alluring in their own way.
The pots of withered plant that once saddened me will shoot again when the new season approaches. By then, I should have already thrown away the green skewers which brought me such joy. Same as the unpredictability of life, sorrow and joy are also never predictable, and nothing lasts.