Every aspect, object elucidates a story woven with transience. The flowers in the garden, the plants in the office, the wrinkles on your face, dried tree trunks, broken glass pans, aged furniture, sunset. Life is fragile and short. There’s no permanence, only a yearning within our minds for everlasting life.
“Every spirit passing through the world fingers the tangible and mars the mutable, and finally has come to look and not to buy. So shoes are worn and hassocks are sat upon and finally everything is left where it was and the spirit passes on, just as the wind in the orchard picks up the leaves from the ground as if there were no other pleasure in the world but brown leaves, as if it would deck, clothe, flesh itself in flourishes of dusty brown apple leaves, and then drops them all in a heap at the side of the house and goes on.”― Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping