Time moves forward relentlessly, and with it comes the growing awareness of how fleeting everything truly is. This feeling—this quiet reckoning with life’s impermanence—can shape a person in profound ways. Whether it’s just a trick of the mind or something wired into our very nature, the weight of it is undeniable. It doesn’t strike like a sudden storm or consume everything in its path. Instead, it lingers just beneath the surface, like a shadow stretching longer as the sun sets. It makes us wonder—why nurture something if it will inevitably wither? Why celebrate a bloom that is destined to fall? And yet, I love bougainvillea. Despite its fragile petals and brief life, it is beautiful. It bursts forth in vivid color, climbing and sprawling, unapologetically alive. It does not hold back in fear of the inevitable; it flourishes, embracing every moment in the sunlight. And when the blossoms fall, they do so gracefully. The vines remain, waiting for their time to bloom again. The petals, once radiant, scatter and fade, becoming part of the earth. Perhaps, if no one stops to notice them, their beauty goes unremembered. But that does not mean they were not beautiful. Even when the vines grow wild, even when their thorns scratch and tangle, they remain a testament to life’s resilience. Their fleeting nature does not diminish their significance—it defines it. No single petal can understand the full grandeur of the bloom, just as we cannot fully grasp the vastness of existence. But we are part of it nonetheless. One day, we too will fade. The things we build, the moments we cherish, will drift away like petals in the wind. And yet, we live. And yet, we love. And yet, we bloom. This is not denial. It is the truest embrace of life itself. To know that everything is temporary and still choose to grow, to love, to reach toward the sun—that is the real miracle. This too shall be let go, for now, embrace the moments within?