The boys and men of the village anxiously watched as the sorcerer recited incantations over their daggers and spears, empowering them to still the heart of the dragon that had terrorized their women and children for far too long. Each warrior carried his enchanted weapon as an extension of his bravery and his duty as protector of the village. The weeds hung back and watched the parade of male heroes as they marched past, forging up into the mountain shrouded with fog. If the men did not return, the generations of weeds who value the earth as their territory, would take up the battle cry. Camouflaged with green and purple hues, their aggressive intent would be disguised, for they shared the coloring of the dragon, and grew low to the ground. The dragon would not see them as an obvious threat. With great stealth, the weeds would slowly advance and strike with their own daggers and spears! The dragon would be deterred from ever straying into their fields.
Or so legend has it.
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.