This summer I have made a conscious effort to take my camera with me everywhere I go.  I started doing this because of the many missed opportunities I’ve had to take the “perfect picture.” 

I love flowers and weed flowers.  You’d think that after 27 years of marriage, my husband would have learned to appreciate my taste in flowers.  But as soon as I pull into the driveway with a big smile on my face, he starts to shake his head.  “WHAT” I exclaim as I get out (no jump out) of the car.  ‘And, what flowers did we buy today,’ he sarcastically says with a half grin on his face.  I simply smile and begin to explain all of the wonderful attributes of my new find.  “Honey it’s a WEED” he growls.  Absolutely NOT, I gush out.  It will be perfect in the garden.  Now, my husband does all this grumbling only for fun because while all this bantering is going on between us, he has already gathered the proper garden tools to do some planting.  I will plant them myself I pout halfheartedly and then grab my favorite tool and run off.  Don’t forget your gloves my husband shouts but it’s too late because I’ve already rounded the house heading to the perfect spot. 

He knows I hate to wear gloves – it takes away the entire experience of bonding with the dirt and plants.  And if you’ve read any of my ‘I love’ comments, you’ll remember that working in the dirt with my bare hands is akin to eating chocolate to me.  I really do love it!

Why do I love weedy-looking flowers?  Today was the first day I actually sat and wondered this aloud to myself.   I think understanding oneself gets better the longer you live.  I was surprised at my answer to this question.  I love weedy-looking flowers because I am most like a weedy flower.  My color is unlike all of the standard flowers most folks love.  My shape is not perfect.  I don’t have a wonderful aroma that draws you in.  I guess I’m a little bit of a misfit in the land of flowers. 

Oh, but how the bees LOVE weedy flowers; and hundreds of butterflies visit daily to exclaim about their wondrous adventures and travels.  And last night a baby rabbit tasted one of the petals, which is perfectly alright because it helps them to spread and allow more flowers to burst open with the upcoming morning sun.

But most importantly, God made each flower unique, special, and PERFECT regardless of what names each of them are given.  So, even a weedy flower has its place in the world.  And that unusual color I am — well it’s a very unique true blue that is so sought after by all the ‘normal’ flowers out there.

Can you find me among the pictures?

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