At the Rose Garden, Cal Poly

At the rose garden, center of attention alternates. Sometimes it is the roses – the full bloomed baby-pink roses, shockingly-deep-red roses, or melancholic yellow roses. Some times it is the birds – the sleek, scrawny brown birds, which fly about the garden and sometimes seating near you on the wooden bench. Sometimes it is the refreshing, melodious sounds of water fall from the concrete water fountain.
The fountain has three parts – the longest part which is situated low between two more cubical and higher parts. The longest receives water falling from the other two. I love the sound of falling water. The sound resonates. The sound has joyful beats, and sometimes I think I hear singing voice of water spirit.
Bubbles the falling water creates on the moss green colored surface of the fountain water twinkles and runs around as more and more water falls among them. The mid-afternoon sunlight is getting hot. The roses of all kinds of color, gotten their moisture and dew during the night and the early morning, now shine their colors off under the honest, strong sunlight. At the same time, the roses are absorbing the sunlight with all their might, because from the nature – water, sunlight, dusty brown soil that they set their feet deeply in, ant the air – is what makes them live.