Morning Thanks

Garrison Keillor once said we'd all be better off if we all started the day by giving thanks for just one thing. I'll try.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Saturday Morning Catch


Long ago, my wife let me know that some weeds were really wild flowers. I hadn't thought of that back then, on our way to Arizona, soon after we were married, the ditches speckled gloriously with bright yellow blossoms. I thought about that yesteday, early morning, when the gigantic wave of emerald out here--every corn and soybean field is mature--sparkled with black-eyed susans or compass plants. I'm not sure what they are, finally, but they're certainly ubiquitous, shining like stars in the green wave that is Siouxland.

They're not greenhouse-perfect. Bugs love the yellow trumpets more than most of us, as you can see if you look closely. Leaves are pockmarked, and, of course, and the elderly die slowly, in full public view, witnesses to the story of the earth.

Maybe they're weeds--it takes someone with more expertise than I have--but yesterday, early in the morning, royally bedecked with dew, against the unending green, they were, most definitely, wild flowers.

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