The young fiddleneck grew up wild and free, happy and innocent in her charmed meadow. She thrived with the wild abandon of youth, and the fertile flow of energy and spunk dominated her days. There was nothing she couldn’t do, no one she could not seduce. All that lay before her was hers for the taking. She was invincible and she was desirable.
Her days will filled with the instinctive youthful acknowledgement that she was bold and beautiful. Days were spent in fanciful adventures in the meadow with the other flowers, the butterflies, birds and bees. She spent her afternoons and evenings involved in flirtations with the sky and rose imbued sunset. She rose in the morning dew-dropped and gorgeous. Her most splendid and powerful moments were when she’d unfurl a new leaf or a curl with great aplomb.
By the time mid-spring had come along, the fiddleneck became aware of the start of a new idea, a longing for something more substantial that her daily flirtations. She felt a stirring of desire for new life and for a once in a lifetime role that could take her above the meadow floor. From that day forward she became more focussed on the potential she felt stored inside her. She called upon the energy from her delightful youth infused days of flirtations to fuel her as she built up to her most fertile moment.
T’was one morning in particular that dawned crystal clear with a goal revealed; to be a nurturer of the ones that would take their place in the playground she had prepared. A bud formed and plumped and became vibrant with color. She became pregnant with a flower soon to be, a carrier of seeds that would spread her beauty and charms to new patches of the wild meadows near and far.
To new life, and all those who nurture it. Happy Mother’s Day!
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.