Perspective

So there is this large, LARGE weed outside my house. It's a thistle. It's kind of giant. As in, it's officially as tall as I am.

From July 2011

And it lives happily among my lilies and other drop-dead gorgeous plants.

From June 2011

I should have pulled it up months ago, like April, when it started growing, but I didn't. Then one day, I noticed it was as tall as Henry.

"Hmm." said I. And I left it some more.

Next thing you know, it's all scraggly and pokey and prickly and tall.

And it remains.

I can't quite bring myself to pull it up. Perhaps it's because my garden gloves are all the way back in the back shed and this particular weed is in the front. Long walk, you know.

Or perhaps it's because I am lazy.

But most likely it's because I can't quite seem to think it *needs* to go. It's grown and grown, with absolutely no support from me. I realize it's a noxious weed and therefore stealing water and all that, but really with my hose gives plenty of water for all.

I just think it's all in my perspective. I heard a quote once, (and who said it is a mystery to me) that the difference between a flower and a weed is nothing more than perspective. And while I don't agree when it comes to my vegetable garden, I do think it's got a right to raise it's leaves up to the sunshine just as much as my lilys do.

Silly, absolutely.

But nonetheless, I can't quite bring myself to end it. I want to see what it turns into.

So, it grows and grows.

I think we do this with people too. We make snap judgments about them, with knowing almost nothing, "WEED!" we declare in our minds. "FLOWER!" we divine. When really, we have no business doing so. How would YOU like to be declared a weed, when deep down you know you're a flower?

And so I hope to be able to find some beauty in the thing. And I'm waiting for it to flower. Because, dangitall, I'm quite sure it will.  Which I think, is the whole point.