The weeds were growing at the edge of our lawn. Although the definition of a weed is whatever plant you don’t want growing where it’s growing, I didn’t have the heart to yank their bright yellow, delicate bloomin’ heads from the ground. I marveled as they glimmered in the sun against the backdrop of the lush green grass.
In the kitchen Sunday, the leggy weeds with the bright yellow blooms caught my eye; glimmering in the sun streaking through our bay window. The Skimmer had put them in a vase.
And I marveled at the thought of him doing that.