Clinging To Memories Of Spring
Hoping And Memories Of Spring

I know that spring time is gone, and that I am on the other side of youth. But I remember Spring so well that I can still feel it. I am still in that season, my mind says. I remember the feeling of my shoots which sprang up straight and tall, strong and green. I can still see my petals as they unfurled, soft yellow and warm like butter on a summer’s day. Exploding with excitement, I relive the moment my seeds popped up first, expectantly, and then flew away with the breeze that welcomed them. But the moment they left, I wished I had them back.

I know that wishing will not make it so. Instead, I hold onto the goodness of my life in spring and I look with open eyes at the autumn season before me. My spring laced eyes make this view much more tender. It may be autumn, but there are traces of familiarity about it. In the air I sense the same scents, the same wanderings and flirting ways as I did in Spring. I see that other flowers are now enjoying their time of succulent blooming, and that we are all in this together. It is their moment now. Mine had come just a moment before. And a new spring will come for all of us. I shall face it with open eyes, and give a nod to my tender past.

How wise weeds are! Enjoy!

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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