“It’s mighty cold up here in the hills”, the weed flower husk grumbled. “The wind is frigid, coming down from the north, and it makes my points even sharper. So do not bother me, unless you are bringing an end to the howling wind and the chill.”
Although the day was sunny, the wind was indeed punishing, and all who trudged up and down the hilly path that day cursed the cold weather. We all bowed our heads to shield our faces from the freezing wind, but it did no good. There was no stopping it. Our spirits sank with the temperature every time the day dimmed because clouds had blown in front of the sun, but we knew we had to hold on; we knew our work in the hills would eventually end, and we could go home to a warm fire, good food and a cozy bed.
However this weed flower, dried since autumn, had to wait it out. He grumbled and groaned and looked very very grumpy, but he was strong in accepting the life of a weed. He would stand tall in place, weather the humorless winds, and look forward to the sun on the next dawning with hope that tomorrow would be calmer and more forgiving. In the meantime, he does feel sour and sharp, so please, give him his space. He will come out of it all okay.
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.