I am in a garden, a little overgrown, but still beautiful, simply left to its natural growth aesthetically. I briefly enjoy the breathtaking sight of violet magic and only fleetingly sense a gentle splashing behind me, as I am unceremoniously - not brutally, but very firmly and somewhat against my will - pushed headfirst into the lilac bush. For a moment, I feel pleasantly close to nature, the flower in front of me smells so authentic and real, almost a little Frida Kahlo-esque as the lilac stretches out in all directions around my head. But just as Frida Kahlo's gaze, upon closer inspection, sinks sternly downwards, so too does the beautiful lilac gain a biting severity, and after only a short time, the little lilac blossoms tickle unpleasantly in my nose and I can feel the pollen scratching down my throat.
The beautiful orange trees and rose bushes are forgotten, perhaps a hint of jasmine wafts towards me for a moment, and the beautiful splashing of the soft almond milk spring is far too distant.
What a shame. The visit to the garden would have definitely been more enjoyable had I been able to stand in the middle, admire the entire floral splendor, and indulge in the almond milk in between, for then I would have perceived the fleeting lilac with a smile and fascination in every breeze and would have dreamt myself into bliss. As it is, unfortunately, it remains just a one-time visit.
