The flowers opened with the rooster’s crow and closed as the sun went down. Everyone called them weeds, and that’s what they were if you were someone other than me.
Whatever their name, they woke and fell asleep with the sun, like us, and that was just so beautiful to me.
I’ve lived in several houses where this sort of ‘weed’ rose upon the front lawn like a problem to be dealt with, and though the grass was neater upon their official doom…it was never quite the same. Never as alive. Never as lovely, such is the vibrance of dynamic life.
And so it was that I loved that lawn much more when the weeds were alive.
Because Shakespeare was right.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
brooke-cutler.com 
4 replies on “Flowers”
So many weeds are so beautiful that it’s a shame they are weeds. When I was a kid, there were always these beautiful blue flowers I found at the beginning of spring in my backyard, but they were always so ruthlessly cut down a week later. But, gosh, did I love lying down and staring at them for as long as I could!
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Oh my goodness, Kat. You KNOW! I have a weed creeping along my back porch at the moment. It is utterly breathtaking. Whimsical beautiful. When my husband got rid of it I was so sad! Ha ha ha. Now it’s come back, I look at it trying to make its way into the brickwork and I think, ‘Oh you silly bugger. If only you’d behave, then we’d all get along just fine!’ Ha ha ha. 😂☺️🌸
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Haha, weeds certainly have a way of doing what they want! Sometimes I want to dig them up and put them in their own little pot. Good thing they always come back to be enjoyed again and again!
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😂Right?! The gift that keeps on giving. 😂
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