The lament of the bluebells

I knew what my destination would eventually be,as i set off on a quiet Sunday evening,in mid May.The air was nice and cool,a treat for this time of year,especially with the temperatures predicted to be in the nineties by late week.The grass was wet,so my shoes and pants were soon soaked,as I kept moving deliberately towards my destination on the south side of Pine Log.I knew full well what I was,or rather was not going to see, once I got there.Pine Log,though beautiful as always,seemed to have a bittersweet,poignant,feel to it.As one might have on the way to see a sick or dying friend.Soon I found myself at my intended location,and began scanning the banks of bluebell island for any sign of the uncommonly beautiful,awe inspiring plants that had center stage just a week or two ago.The only sign left was a few dead and or dying leaves,face down towards the ground they had sprang from.Though I knew full well what I was going to see,the shock was still painful.They were giving way to harsher,more aggressive plants.In my lament of their swift passing, I was reminded of a an observation of a man raised up to minister to the gentiles many years ago.He observed that "the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.My lament was somewhat softened by a promise made from an ancient Book many years ago.That one day even the desert itself would blossom like a rose.Reluctantly I leave bluebell island to suffer the fate passed on to it because of the edenic episode,heartened only by the fact that it would not always be this way.Setting my sights on home I began the walk along the banks of Pine Log.Stopping to peer over the bank ,I catch my reflection in it's mirrored waters.Once again I am caught off guard by what I see,and my lament is once again softened by the voice of the ancient book."Behold I make all things new."May your laments,which are unavoidable be softened,your pain eased by all of his unfailing promises.Lamenting,yet believing,from Pine Log.