The Little Flower That Could 🌼

It's hard to squash stubbornness.

The single black-eyed Susan (Photo by Suzi Parker)

All summer they tried to kill my wildflowers.

They. You know the ambiguous “they.” They, the entities, that mow ditches, cut tree limbs near power lines, wield power and control.

They have a job to do. I get it. I understand.

The wildflowers were here on the land long before civilization took over even in if this is still rural country.

I watched the wildflowers grow all summer, barely mowing the grass because I wanted to create an ecosystem from weeds to wild violets. It was my own personal experience.

Dandelions grew all spring and summer. Goldenrods showed their yellow brightness after Labor Day. The black-eyed Susans were a loyal bloomer.

Throughout the summer, lightning bugs flickered, bees buzzed, butterflies fluttered. Bluebirds, yellow finches, swallows, cardinals flew. A natural reality show.

One morning in early October, my dogs barked in their “something isn't right out there” tone.