The rains will be over and it would be October soon and the birds would be in song again. We the people, who floats around the known & the unknown, happiness and melancholy, could lie in the sun on sweet-smelling grass and gaze up through a pattern of oak leaves into a blind-blue heaven. The man who imparted the feeling of joy in touching the leaves and grass, the smell of mint and myrtle and bruised clover, the touch of air and sky's blueness will be with us to celebrate life as he resolutely believes: “Until death comes, all is life.”