Ah, the fleeting quality of life; things that do not last; change shape; are washed away by the rain and blown by the wind. All things contain this basic nature. I guess that's the buddha chatting. Why, I find food such a beautiful art form. It seems all of it goes anyway, why not consume it.
These chalk drawings exist today on the sidewalk. They are bright and colorful. They are like the Spring becoming Summer. They are a welcome presence after the long dark that was winter. They will not bore you, because you will not tire of their presence. They will leave before you have a chance to grow numb to them. I'm sorry you can't eat them.
In a way, it's sad they can't stick around. Who would not love some things to stick around. There are things I know that if they stuck around such love I would feel for them. That love would only grow. When these wash away, are they really gone?