The summer was here. The flowers were here. Yellow, pink, blue and white. They grew along the path that she used to reach the subway. There is some joy on seeing green and flowers after a cold winter. The grass rose to around five feet and above. Whenever a wind blew, the thin long stalks swayed along. A faint rustle could be heard.
On a Saturday, she smelt the smell of fresh grass. The freshness that emanates from within green stalks filled the air. It was heady. She thought it was. As she proceeded on the walkway, she saw the greenery being cropped by a huge pair of shears. To a length of a few inches above the ground. The pungent smell of the cut grass that lay by the path to be picked was nauseating. She hurried to get past by it.
Perhaps, she can see some flowers and greenery towards the end of summer. Or she has to wait for the next spring.