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…on a five acre plain. I couldn’t help but notice. I cut concentric circles until I approached the first and couldn’t bring myself to mow it down, nor the second, so two small arcs were traced for their safety.

I want them to go to seed, these late bloomers, oddities amongst the grass and ant mounds more common to this time of year. This will be the last time I mow this season before the weather changes in earnest, and thus these flowers are for me the last of the year before spring.

Two little flowers persist, colorful amidst the grey. The symbolism is profound, personal.

Contrast the simple beauty of nature embodied in these fragile and temporary vessels against the cold bitterness of man’s despair and take comfort that they will inevitably survive despite us, and as surely break ground again whether we actively choose to spare the blade.

I spared them for me as an act of selfishness — they will never need my charity as much as I need their beauty.