So I head down the road on this “anything but ordinary” morning and before I’ve gone far, I see this common weed. How fantastically lovely I think. Whoever said that weeds are “common”? I’m reminded by this fragile beauty that the appearance of a plant or even a person is quite affected by the intensity and hue of the light upon it at the time it is observed. How lucky for me to view this solitary weed in the softness of early morning light. How lucky for any of us to be viewed by others through a lens of soft compassion.
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