Roadside weeds are just that ...shaggy, scrubby twigs, reeds, seeds and tangled tough stuff. I pass them daily and sometimes in heat of summer they are overwhelming with their lush, passionate growth. They overcome the land that hosts them, but in so doing, they become hosts themselves to birds, bugs,butterflies and all manner of creature that we don't encourage on our tidy urban patches of manicured bland. The humble weed field is more or less ignored, left alone to its own devices...visited occaisionally by birders and bears. But then, the day arrives when it is, indeed, the Weed's Day.
The day that nature turns her attention to the ditches, meadows and swamps. With a quick dip of her brush into the crystal container she instantly turns the bland to grand. Queen Anne's Lace becomes a delicate incredibly rare piece of art.
The lonely Robin's nest etches its longing for summer in the frosty fringes.
A simple branch becomes the essence of an entire season.
It is the Weed's Day....Magic minutes of frosty fine art, that melt our hearts just as the sun arrives to remind us that fame is always fleeting.
Treasure your moments.
Find out how the sky looked elsewhere around the world at www.skyley.blogspot.com
