Life will out
I love those little plants that grow out of pavement, stubborn, a flag that nature planted. “I’m still here. Life will out,” the unfurled leaves proclaim.
This week, I saw one and bent down to get a closer look of the multiple shoots coming out of the brick. A maple seed lay strewn beside, hoping for acceptance. I found hope in it, perhaps the fool’s hope of the maple seed, but still tenacious. I am still here, still growing.
Elsewhere, spring fades into summer, the skies here still mostly gray, though occasionally a reminder of blue. It feels a bit like that no-time, when it’s hard to know the season or the day. The year. Looking down, spring flowers fading mark the passage of time. They made fade, but life will out.
Snaps.
Catch all the Sundry Wonders posts and let me know what you experienced on your walks in the comments.
