These are the flowers I picked for you. One I picked when you were born, another when you died. Between them they follow many years of life with many flowers, none of them placed in a herbarium. I punctuated the beginning and end with the simplest nature I could find.
People often ask why I only picked two flowers. You never questioned that, that's for sure. I don't regret not picking more flowers. Simply, with you, I contemplated them in nature, without picking them up, without taking away their life. These two small flowers, now dried and pressed with time, mark your existence, the unique moments in which we live thrown, one to the other, to the whim of the wind.
These flowers are simply the culmination of the path taken. A path that is not always flowery, but full of enough botany that it could become an immense herbarium of scents and colors. Our life, in the firmament.
I still like to walk in the garden to smell the scent of flowers...
