Wednesday, May 18, 2005

. . . a violet by a mossy stone, half hidden from the eye; fair as a star when only one is shining in the sky. . . .

One nice thing about letting your grass get knee-high is all the pretty wildflowers. I never lack for a bouquet, nope. I don't know what kind of flowers they are, they're probably some kind of weed, but in a pretty vase on my coffee table, side table, piano, hall table, and left stereo speaker, they are beautiful flowers. Several vases full of beautiful, BEAUTIFUL, flowers.

They smell great too.

The only real differences between a flower and a weed are location, circumstances, and perspective. This applies to many aspects of life, doesn't it. Notice something, move it to a place where it will be clearly seen and appreciated, and suddenly you realize that, given a chance, a weed is actually a beautiful flower.

People who keep their lawns cut short miss out on a lot of beauty.