Skeleton Flower

The day after the deluge dawned without hesitation, bright and sunny. Like a dog who simply cannot remember that his paws made the mess in the kitchen or his teeth are to blame for his owner’s ruined shoes, there was no remorse in the sunrise. Nature awoke innocently with no acknowledgment of the floodwaters and the storm that she’d pounded this little patch of earth with just yesterday. Nature might not have remembered, but this little flower remembered all. A ghost of her former gay self, the saturated flower knew that although she no longer had the power to captivate a passerby’s eye with bright petals and green waxy stems, her strength lay in her structure, her form. She could survive the drenching she’d received, the soil that washed away from around her roots, the winds that tore at her leaves, the cold that iced her stalk. It was only one storm that had passed in the night and she had claimed her spot for as many seasons as she’d be allowed. Her aim was to remain here for years and bear witness to the strengths of small things and flowers expertly designed.

Now, human – “Go away!”

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.

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