That is the question I ponder when the Japanese Anemones are beginning to bloom each fall. The buds are so delightfully fuzzy you must touch them. But then again, the blooms are so airy, so confiding as they beg to have their moment in the slanting fall light.
My heart is torn.
I must refuse.
Both aspects are beautiful, both arrest my churning thoughts and make me glad to be alive in this brief moment.