The roar of danger passed and the field lay quiet and still. The loudest sound now was the spit of dust as it rose up in puffs with the breeze. The men had come and cleared the land, but they could not touch everything. They had neither the inclination or the will to decimate all green things in the field. It was hot work and dirty work and they did not enjoy it. They were gone.
And so, this Russian Thistle held its ground. It was not tall enough to get caught in the chopping machine and it did not catch anyone’s attention, as it benefitted from being uninteresting to look at. It did not attract bees, nor scrape passersby with thorns. It did not wave in the wind or bear fruit or flowers, yet. It was almost unrecognizable as the “nuisance” it would become, a rolling tumbleweed with the ability to spread its seed everywhere as it would grow to immense proportions.
And so today it is free, and it begins to grow. The mystery weed, the menace begins to advance and spread and make progress in the field. It will transform the landscape from a scraped bare dusty one to a varied one with undulating rises and dips of life and motion and progress. Long live the tumbleweed!
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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