“The passing of time”

I look at the trees.

The snow covering them.

And I can’t help but think that this is the passing of time.

Every year I see the same picture.

Trees covered with snow.

And at the end of every winter, I see how the warm rays of the spring sun melt the snow and I watch it falling from the branches down to the ground.

Year after year this happens.

Nothing changes.

Except me.

With every season I change.

I’m never the same person I was last winter when I watched the trees.

And I wonder if this is how it’s supposed to be.

Time passes.

I grow older.

But the world stays the same.

For those who come after me to see.

My children will watch the trees and see the same thing I did.

Long after I’m gone.

And I hope they will.

Because watching the passing of time is a beautiful thing.

Something I wish my children will have to pleasure to watch.

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