Photofeed Macrophotography Contest

There was ballistic again tonight. I don't even remember how many times this winter I woke up not from the alarm clock and not from the cold, but from this sound that can't be confused with anything. He passes through the walls, through the pillow, through the body. And the most unpleasant thing is that after it is impossible to fall asleep like before. Even if it's all over. Even if it's quiet.

In the morning, everything around looks normal. The same kitchen. The same cup of coffee. My dogs that demand their breakfast as if nothing had happened. And there is something right and strange about it. The world seems to continue to pretend that everything is fine. Or maybe it's normal to continue living no matter what.

I really want color. Something bright. Yellow, like that flower with drops of water on the petals. Lilac, like heavy lilac brushes, which are almost impossible to hold in your hand. Red, so saturated that it seems almost unreal. Now it's mostly gray and brown around. The earth is still asleep. The trees are empty and careful. And there are still many such days ahead.

That's why I opened my old photos. I took these macro pictures last spring in my garden. Then everything happened as usual - without effort, without waiting. The flowers just appeared. One by one. As if it's the most natural thing in the world.

I remember leaning towards them with my phone. How I caught the light. I was so surprised how perfect a simple shape of a petal can be. Then it seemed like something ordinary. Now it's almost a luxury.

That's probably why I'm looking at these photos today. To remind myself that spring has not disappeared. She just hasn't come yet.

And she will come. It doesn't matter.