Early Melancholy Summer

There are times where I am overwhelmed by the beauty the universe has to offer. It feels as if I can take every single thing around me into my senses. The chirping of birds that is also the first sound I hear in the morning. The morning sunlight that comes through the latticed window and reflected off of the mirrored cut-ins along my bedroom walls. The sound of wind rustling through the crepe myrtle trees and how it releases the flower petals, flying them away before eventually letting them fall to the earth. The summer breeze that gently kisses my face. The heavenly scents of lilacs in bloom. The wild flowers along the cycling path to campus, occasionally made more apparent by the afternoon sunlight. The shadow of dancing trees that accompany me while I cycle home. The park full of daisies and the ducks swimming on the pond within or sometimes just lazily lay on the grasses. The kinds of sceneries that often brings particular images into my head which had surfaced long, long ago. I should be grateful with all the beauties that nature has given me. I should be completely pleased. But why is there also anguish when it is the time to celebrate such a colourful season? My mood blackened as a familiar, yet unpleasant feeling rises from an unknown place. I wonder what kind of sin I committed in my previous life that even in a festive season like this, I'm being so melancholic? Part of me feels the joy, but the other oddly feels misery.