WeedImageoftheDay

Weed Of Life


Withering

Withering

Wherever I go, I wither. Wherever I wander, I wrinkle. The longer I live, the more I bend to stay in this life, and the more I find myself stuck in old poses. Today I am not soft and supple. My mind buzzes and flits; and with the buzzing wandering, my thoughts and memories are blown away, scattered in no particular direction. Solid things like knowing and thoughts are replaced by a fog that contains the aches and pains, constantly pricking my gnarled leaves, picking at me like pesky mosquitos on a summer night by the lake.

Ah, I smile. That, a summer lake, that I can remember. I can feel the cool water lapping at my feet. I can hear the laughter of my friends and the excitement in the air. The night is moist against my bare skin. The smell of sunscreen and wet hair carries the scent of teenaged attraction across the years, to me now, today, standing in the harsh sun.

But oh, the pain starts again.

The pain shoots up my back, squeezing out my youth. The memory of a faraway summer night bursts like a rainbow hued bubble that leaves no trace. Once again I stand; wooden and bent over, pained and wrinkled, but still here. I stiffen and brace myself for breezes now. I do not revel in them, instead I shrink. But I am still here. The water of that lake would be too cold for me now, and the gentle lapping would knock me over. I am old, but I am still here.

So if you see me today, or another old one, please smile. It is not a delightful thing be an old weed, but I know I am still here, and I’m pretty sure I will still have my moments.

Thinking of aging today, and loved ones growing old. They look much frailer than they really are, and so if I am lucky I will see them in their more supple times.

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.

Unauthorized use, distribution and/or duplication of any of this material without the express written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

 

This entry was published on May 27, 2014 at 9:34 pm. It’s filed under aging, Beauty, Bravery, Depression, Leaves, loneliness, Memories, Nature, Photography, Project 365, Weeds and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

One thought on “Weed Of Life

  1. Very nice. Getting a few creeks and pains myself, I appreciate the negative and the positive in your weed-tale. Jane

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: