Why is it, that on one day out of many days that are seemingly just the same, the direction you always look into suddenly gives you trouble, when no trouble was there for days and days prior? Today is a day like any other, and on this morning I looked into the sun with hope and optimism, ready to welcome the warmth of life and love. But, for the first time today I noticed my neighbor, a thorn encrusted previous resident who’d been preserved in his last position of looking at the morning sun, in a dried and stiff and brittle state. When did he come into my world? Had he been always there, at my side, gazing in the same direction as I yet with vastly different sensibilities? Was he once like me? What transformed him from a golden, lemon buttery flower of delicate and inviting embellishments, to a stiff and irregular fellow of particularly pointy bits?
If he was once like me, might I become like him in a season or two? We both still gaze at the sun, we both still savor it, yet with different energies. S we are joined, we continue each other.
I think that I shall, on the morrow, befriend my neighbor of contrast and see if we can together gaze upon a brighter future that is softer and more enduring. Perhaps a future of friendship between weeds, and perhaps much more.
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.