Les préludes

In spring, when snow started to melt, I turned my macro lens extremely close to some tiny things in nature, and I saw an astonishing world where life and death were happening side by side. Little ivies withered on a crumbling wall, while flesh buds were blooming out on a branch. What else is our life but a series of preludes to that unknown hymn, the first and solemn note of which is intoned by death? There was no remembrance of the faded past; neither would there be any everlasting vividness, except in the photographs I took to preserve the moments forever.