Beauty shines more brightly when it is fleeting. What only exists for a few instances — a convergence of coincidences witnessed only by a lucky few — is truly more beautiful.
I realized this when the fruitless walnut trees near Storke Plaza began losing their petals in the wind. Those white flecks bobbing chaotically over our heads better captured what I call "beauty" then blossoms that could have lasted for months had the storm not blown in this afternoon.
Beauty that lasts forever, I suppose, must become ordinary.
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