The Mountain Rock and the Datura

In the tranquil forest, a datura plant thrived. To escape the relentless fury of the wind and the scorching sun, she found solace leaning against a sturdy mountain rock. The rock, accustomed to shielding against the elements, initially felt unperturbed. Over time, though, it noticed the corrosive effect of the datura's prolonged contact, which led to weathering. So, it decided to move away from the datura. However, every time it attempted to distance itself, the datura would draw near again, caressing its delicate branches and flaunting its vibrant flowers. The rock couldn't bear to see this and became entranced by the fragrance, devoutly persevering to shield the datura from the elements.

One day, the datura grew bigger, and the rock, now eroded like drifting sand, watched as its layers were carried away by the wind.

Observing the datura's transformation, the rock was overwhelmed with heartache, almost unable to breathe. It recalled legends about the datura: near Spanish execution grounds, datura flowers blossomed in the soil beneath the guillotine, soaking in the bloodshed and numbly witnessing the demise of lives. In ancient India, the datura was seen as the "trumpet of angels (or demons)," a pathway for people to reach their desired worlds through its petals. Additionally, when the datura's petals unfurled, they would create a magnificent datura realm, constructing the picturesque paradise people imagined.

The rock couldn't restrain itself and scolded the datura. The datura, with a forlorn expression, said, "If you had simply said you didn't want me there, I would have left willingly." The rock replied, "I tried to leave multiple times; how much more unwilling could I have been? You kept pretending to need me to shield you from the elements." "Regardless, I don't want this now. Let's not dwell on the past." "Bringing up the past is because the injustice wasn't acknowledged. Things were never resolved properly." "Consider it my fault, I apologize, and that should be the end of it." "I don't need these insincere apologies. Only when you've suffered similarly can you apologize!"...

The datura left from a distance, feeling no need to explain further. The rock saw through the datura's facade, its cold-bloodedness, malice, and shamelessness, deeply regretting having once mistaken foul-smelling trash for the soul's fragrance. It thought, although the wounds of weathering could never be undone, perhaps this pain would eventually fade with the passage of time.