Aah !! who loves not to romance the first rain of the year,
when comes the season of spring and the cold dry winter disappear.
Flowers prepared to bloom in shiny weather clear,
Trees start to dress up again in greenish barks and leaves.
The fallen leaves turned brown sets ready to be decomposed, by bacteria , soil microbes , earthworms.
And the organic matter is dosed, in combination of Humus, micro-nutrients and applied bit of cowdungs.
In operations are butterflies and bees for pollination,
in operations are nitrogen fixing bacteria in the root of leguminous plants,
In operations are organic farmers for mulching, composting and in the vermicomposting.
In operations are soil microbes, in operations are cosmos and the biodiversity.
Soil is the placenta of life on earth,
Soil in the womb for seeds to survive and to germinate.
Water is the Heart beat of every life on earth;
Rainwater quenches the Burning thrust of life.
So in eagerness and in the wait are all microbes, plants , animals and all the Human Heart.
In eagerness and in wait are all microbes, plants, animals for the first rainfall of the year,
when comes the season of spring and cold dry season disappear.
As the first rainfall kisses the Mountain top dives into rivers, lake, and pours into the soil;
Then the sweet fragrance is born From organic matters of soil…
Sweet pleasant odor to the sense of smell.
Mother Nature spreads Her love through petrichor,
Spreading and diffusing in air enlightening the heart; where in despair with artificiality, it’s the Mother
Earth’s creativity which Human senses can truly enjoy,
As said by John Keats, Beauty is Truth, Truth is beauty..
It’s the pleasant petrichor Emerging from Mother Earth’s heart core.
But Now, everything is poisoned- air, water, rivers , soil with chemical fertilisers , pesticides, polluted land, agriculture fields
Leaches poison through roots to water bodies.
So poisoned is lithosphere, atmosphere, stratosphere.
Now no sweet odor and fragrance in air,
nor in water, nor in soil as polluted are rainfalls
So poisoned is the Petrichor. –
By Prayash Tamang
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