On the right:
Lilian picked four peony blossoms from the bush outside the bedroom window and put them in a vase. I photographed them against the backdrop of flowers in the bush from which they had been picked. I could not remember ever having taken a similar photograph before.

On the left:
Quite by accident, I came across this earlier photograph. It shows the peony blossoms outside the window although, because the image is intentionally indistinct, the flowers could just as well be inside the window. The photograph was taken almost a full year before the second photograph on the right.

Does not remembering the earlier image mean that one is living in the moment? Then, some loss of memory can be good.

The image on the right is delicate, almost fragile. That is how life sometimes is. On the left, the image is dark and indistinct but, if we look carefully, we see how the sunlight has caught the top of the flowers. We, too, are sometimes caught by passing light.

I now remember that the peony is an early bloomer: An early splash of color in an otherwise still green garden. And I remember that it doesn’t last long. It is here in the moment and then it’s gone. Like us.