A glance across the landscape whispers the lines of Robert Frost's Poem, "Nothing Gold Can Stay",
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
This gold of spring is short-lived, but a wonder to behold!
Even the preciousness of baby chicks last only for a brief moment, and then somehow they transform from the sweet, cuddly, tiny balls of fluff into wild birds.