Hurt. I decided to take a friend's advice and put my emotions and thoughts to poetry.
So sitting on a bench at the park, I took out my every-present notebook and wrote:
I have found the magic in the everyday
Seen the glitter in the sun's rays
Heard the whispered stories of the leaves
But all it has brought me is regret
It is time to grow up.
I've learned this too late
Nature has a way
and I've tarried too long
With my new philosophy on paper I took a deep breath readying myself to become the new me but as I looked at the ground I spied a fairy wing. I picked it up examining the delicate appendage. The old me marveled as the sun's brilliance transformed the glass-like wing into iridescence splendor. The new me argued, 'that's not a fairy wing. You've studied entomology and you know it's a cicada wing - Time to grow up." But then a deeper voice questioned why the wing was there - upon the ground -at that very moment.
Nature has a way.
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