A dried tumbleweed was scraped from the earth weeks ago. No longer able to bend with the wind and grow fresh green shoots, it is frozen in its last moment. A memorial. Its dried flowers and thorns point upwards to the hot summer sun as they lay exposed atop resting shovels. The shovels rust and the tumbleweed flowers harden into steely weapons while reminding me of the beauty they still hold onto fiercely.
There is sharpness is beauty. A sharp intake of breath at the sudden visualization of it, and the sharp hurt of beauty used selfishly. This tumbleweed knows no emotion and practices no artifice, so it is perfectly suited to remind me that true beauty need not be conventional. If beauty comes from within, it can take any form and it will last long past spring’s bloom.
The tumbleweed is one of my favorite weeds. It is a weed chameleon in the way it changes its shape as it grows. It is delicate and yet well armed. It is both playful and menacing when it tumbles. With the bravery of an unstoppable weed it proudly exalts freedom A tumbleweed can play in most any scene you devise in your mind. It all depends on your mood.
Please, add a tumble to your 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.