He is just an old man who grows flowers, his hair is almost all white. On Mother's Day, he offers floral gifts and presents. At any moment, a wide and thick towel rests on his shoulder, perhaps to avoid the scorching sun in the blazing summer! He doesn't talk much, and you always see him in some corner, but you never hear him speak, as if he feels there's nothing left to say to this world. We don't know when he fell in love with growing flowers. In this city of towering buildings with its bluish-gray hue, you can see people rushing about everywhere. But amidst this sea of a city, there is still a house that seems out of place, with red bricks and green tiles. There is also a garden of moderate size, with lush vines climbing up the walls. However, on a patch of exposed wall, there is a big "tear" character written. This is where the old man grows his flowers. Compared to modern skyscrapers, this place indeed belongs only to this old man. No one pays attention to this corner, except for the urban construction team, who wrote a big "tear" character on this wall! The old man can only rely on this garden to survive. He grows many flowers in this garden, then delivers these flowers to the city, and in return receives a little pitiful charity from the city. The flowers he grows are very beautiful, undoubtedly a precious and beautiful embellishment in this bluish-gray world, always giving people unexpected and pleasing colors. There are red ones, green ones, and many other colors. They are not lacking in olfactory enjoyment either; the flowers' fresh fragrance, the transparent dewdrops on the tender leaves seem to exude a captivating vitality. Everyone is enchanted. They are attached to the old man's flowers, they need the old man's flowers, but they do not know that a big "tear" character is written on the wall of the old man's garden. The human settlements constructed of steel and concrete cannot do without this bit of natural color. The old man comes, his white hair visible from afar. Riding his somewhat dilapidated yet hope-laden small cart, he arrives. Perhaps he only knows that this is what he must do because it is his means of livelihood, but what he does - ordering flowers for Mother's Day - is actually the spiritual comfort and support that the people in this city most need. The turbid and suffocating smells in the city always fill everyone's nostrils, numbing every nerve. A rare whiff of fresh scent is brought by these flowers which are merely considered as embellishments in the city. People should be grateful because the nature around them has not completely disappeared. It seems everything is running in balance, the life in the city repeats itself like a program following a pre-set pattern. Every day, the old man carefully selects his masterpieces and sends them to the city that provides him with living supplies with the small cart parked at the corner of the garden. There, he can exchange for what he needs, maintaining his meager existence. The people in the city do not know the old man, nor do they know that a big "tear" character is written on the old man's dwelling! The old man, the people in the city, the old man's flowers, and this bluish-gray city coexist harmoniously. However, the old man will grow old, the flowers will wither, and the city will continue to expand outward, continuously eroding the nature that the old man protects with his life! One day, the old man will no longer be able to move. No one will take over what he does now. He can no longer resist the ravages of time. He can no longer deliver the bit of nature in his hands into the city because he can no longer pedal the cart parked in the garden. Finally, he can no longer grow those flowers. The city construction team comes, they want to demolish a large area of houses in this region because it will be built into a modern train station. This garden will disappear in the course of historical development. The balance is broken, the old man dies, the nature in his hands goes away with him, and there are no more invigorating colors in this city. Everything is bluish-gray again. There are still people rushing about on the road, they won't think about where the old man who delivered flowers to them has gone? They are just struggling for life, working hard to survive in this city. They don't know what they've lost, they've lost their beloved nature. The death of the flower-growing old man has no impact on them that they can relate to, and the flowers that the old man maintained throughout his life no longer bloom in this city. Those who once looked at the flowers may only be able to go to the museum to pay respects to the only surviving green tree and red flower. Hopefully, this is not the tomorrow we will see! Hopefully, there will be more "flower-growing old men" in our city!