I’m Hungry!

“Weeds, darling. Same as every other meal. Please, just eat what’s in front of you!” The exasperated snail mom sighed as she too tried to get up the enthusiasm to munch on another weed. She thought to herself, “It’s always the same thing every day…I climb out of the drainage pipe and try to get rid of the damp feeling that soaks into my shell, and then its weeds, weeds, weeds.” She looked behind her to see junior obediently mouthing the weed leaf. It was a heartwarming sight for a mother to see. She realized she’d better hide her tiredness from her children because she wanted them to remain vigorous and enthusiastic about the journey they’d face in their lives.

Every parent wants to better the lives of their children, and this snail mother was no different. She had dreams that one day she would lead her children across the sidewalk, through the irritating dry cut grasses, over the pebbled walkway and into…the garden! Her mouth watered as she thought of the tomatoes, the garlic, the strawberries, onions, lettuce (oooh yummy!) squash, green beans and artichokes that were in the garden, waiting for her and her family. On warm days she could smell the plants. Their fragrances called out to her, beckoning her to follow the scented directions they wafted her way.

There were dangers in the journey, of that she was certain; and so she wanted her children to be strong before they set out. She’d spent her days feeding her brood and gathering tips from the ants and the birds as to how to bypass some of the biggest obstacles: the gate that could crush and the sun that had drying power. She knew that if she tarried too long in one spot she would fail to lead her children to paradise. It might be the last thing she would do in her life, but it would be worth it…for her children.

And so tonight, no more sighs. Here’s to another dinner of weeds in preparation for the long journey!

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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