Fresh flowers

Always a little sad to see fresh flowers left in a public place, by a roadside, tied to a tree or placed beside a bench. It seems more poignant than if they are left by a gravestone, amidst so many other reminders of the dead. Someone has been remembering a loved one and their act of memory reminds us all of our mortality, catching us a little unprepared. Often the dead person is anonymous as the flowers are all there is, but if it is a more formal and permanent memorial, like a bench, there is usually something more to identify them. Like here, by the Water of Leith on the route of my favourite local walk, where a bench is dedicated to Z. With a jolt as I read the dates, I realise she was just eighteen when she died, two years ago tomorrow.
Hence the flowers.
RIP Zoe.