One moment it’s there, the other it’s vanished. Countless hours spent perfecting the image, passion seeping through its pores, but for what? As the rain falls, a stream of colour floods the street as the beauty which once was, is no longer.
Within its lifetime countless passerbys take a glance, most too caught up in themselves to fully take it in. Still, it takes only one to fill the creator with a sense of accomplishment. Only one to take the time not only to appreciate but to consider.
It is said that when we die all that is left are memories. Memories of the person we were, the love that we gave, and the successes we attained. Some lives are perceived as being cut short, while others are a life well lived. It is not how long one exists, but how people are remembered for the time they spent on this Earth, that is of importance.
As I look down at the rainbow of life spiraling down the drain, I take a moment to remember the image that was…a burst of sun accenting a group of children at play. The innocence of their young minds penetrating the sidewalk and helping me to understand the importance of making time to take in all the joy and beauty this world has to offer.
Days later as I walk past that piece of cement, I am reminded of the joy I felt at that moment, the slight glimpse into the meaning of life I experienced. While the image is no longer, its purpose was served and its memory lives on.
From afar I notice a man crouched down, chalk in hand. As I reach him he rises revealing a striking feast for my eyes. I take a moment to view the piece of art, mesmerized by the incredible detail it possesses. Just then as I look up to the overcast sky, I feel a drop of rain hit my cheek.
Created: Nov 29, 2010Shannon... Document Media