By definition, if something is ephemeral, it last for only a short time. In the case of wildflowers, it applies to those that appear and bloom, then wither away in just a matter of days. Few things resemble the frailty of mankind and his desperate desires to slow the passage of time as do the ephemeral flowers of spring. Rather than being a thing of passing interest that scarcely draws our attention, they stop us in our tracks and captivate our attention in much the same way that a solar eclipse or a passing comet do. The day that no one gives these delicate beauties so much as a glance we should indeed worry about the state of mankind. Thankfully, I am far from alone in my admiration for the first heralds of spring. The woods will soon be teeming with admirers. Some seeking out a particular specimen, others photographing them all, knowing the identity of very few. Whatever your reasons, I am glad you still notice them and hope that you treat them with respect and kind regard, leaving them for future generations to enjoy. After all, we are very much like them ourselves, here today and gone tomorrow.

“As for man, his days are like the grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourishes. When the wind has passed over it, it is no more, and its place acknowledges it no longer.” Psalm 103:15-16