Chrysanthemum is fully out now. Bundles of them have been planted at various places in the garden by my father. It is been so vital for years that it has proliferated and spread all over.
Another clump of the same flower. It is not showy at all but still lovely.
Camellia is bloominb as well. It tells me we are in the winter. Four days ago, our traditional calendar said it had been in the winter.
Beneath the apricot tree in the lawn, a tiny young tree of the same kind, about a foot tall, was growing. I have transplanted it to a bit more sunny corner. Hopefully, it may grow and will bear many fruits in years. Again, I smiled to myself thinking it may outlive myself. Who would enjoy the fruits? Anyway, it was what my father used to do for us.
I have kept almost everything of my parents at this small house as it used to be when they were alive. I thought I should dispose things like their dresses etc and eventually clear this tiny house. Or our children may have trouble to do with these things in the near future.
Flowers are coming out as if the same season were starting. But there is no same season repeated. We should get ready for the final chapter of our trip of life.
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