What I Ching and the mangrove tree flowers tell us about life

Summer solstice. The Barringtonia racemosa (powder-puff tree) flowers by the river bank are in full bloom. Tassel after tassel, their pale pink stamens tremble in the wind. Set against the clear blue sky, they exude a southern charm.

The scent of the Barringtonia racemosa is fragrant and strong, attracting bees and butterflies hungry for nectar. This is a tropical plant with a short flowering span. Pollination and fertilisation must be completed quickly. Not only does it have a scent that attracts bees and butterflies, its male and female reproductive organs - the stamen and pistil - are exposed for all to see, allowing insects to rapidly facilitate the pollination process.

Nature's sexual and reproductive systems are especially lustful in the hot summer, just like the buzzing and clicking songs of a tree of cicadas. As the night draws in, Barringtonia racemosa flowers blossom like clusters of fireworks. They are a spectacular feast for the eyes indeed.

Splendid, magnificent, and fleeting, the Barringtonia racemosa flowers are indeed like fireworks. After just one night, fallen and withering flowers fill the ground - the pale pink fades away, leaving behind a sea of white pom poms.

Summertime in the south. Life is passionate and short. The primitive reproductive processes are direct and straightforward. There is nothing coy or restrained about it.

. . . . . .

The Barringtonia racemosa flowers not only attract bees and butterflies, but catch the attention of tourists who stop in their tracks, take out their cameras, and snap away in admiration of their beauty.

After a short flowering span, long braids of fruit hang from the mangrove tree. Withered flowers lie on the ground like stars that have fallen off the night sky. They were still so splendid and brilliant when they fell - like magnificent fireworks, they were fleeting and so ravishing that they were even startling; the life cycle of a universe - formation, existence, destruction and emptiness - has become just a memory.*

Reading both the Qian and

This morning, I will just focus on looking at these fallen flowers. They bloomed and were admired. Now they have fallen, and turned to dust and mud in the wind and rain.

Editor's Note:

*In Buddhism, one

**The

Related: A return to the physical body and the exuberance of the Tang dynasty | Wintersweet scents in Jiangnan | Autumn musings by the West Lake | Taiwan author Chiang Hsun: One humanity, one world