See those tiny, colourful blooms sitting unbothered on the peaks? Yeah, the ones growing between the rocks and swaying on the river beds.

They pop up anywhere in the wild and live as if their only purpose is to witness nature at play. Something we often dream of!

Is it possible these wildflowers are just humans in a parallel Universe; humans who once enchanted by nature could never return to their world?

Because you are fated to fall in love with being alive
when you wake up to misty mountains
Or the night you witness a trail of moving celestial bodies.

Perhaps, it is when you first find language in the rhythm of the breeze

Ah, but again it can be that evening… the evening you see the orange of dying sun spreading across the summit, as the moon rises from behind the same peak!
Or is it the time you first realise that at dusk, the sparsely lit mountains
look like a mirror reflection of a star-lit sky?!

Then there are always waterfalls that tell of nature’s wavy hair,
With that, you also start hearing the song in the sound of birds
And the joy of being chosen by mountain dogs.

Lying down witnessing the canvas that is the sky
Or should we call it an ever-changing live wallpaper of the world?

But show me a better bridge than rainbows.
Except when you spot two of them crossing each other.

The first sprout of fruit and how it comes to full bloom.
Mountain peaks peeking through the clouds.
The romance between the moon and the river.

After all, what’s more urgent than a rushing stream on a full moon night?
Life can wait. It can wait and watch because what if this is all it should be about anyway?
To come into existence from nature, surrender to it in the end, and in between draw a thousand breaths in every moment like these?

But for now, you take one last look before you leave and hold on to it hoping to retain this magic somewhere within you. On breathing out, the weight of your heart is too heavy on your gut.

Chances are you won’t fight this ache. You simply leave a piece of your heart behind.

And just in that moment, a wildflower sprouts in the lap of a mountain.