Mother Nature.  What a gal…  You’ve got to give her credit, she’s quite the industrious gardener.  Leave a plot of ground unattended for even a short time, and she’ll dive right in and start working.  Even our lawns aren’t spared her loving touch.  She must not really care for the carefully manicured, smooth expanses that most of us like in front of our homes.  It takes no time at all for her to start her ministrations,  tossing seeds hither and yon, and upsetting the best laid plans of everyone trying to have a putting green (or at least a fairway) as their yard.

I envision her as a somewhat absent minded (in that carefully crafted,  wisdom-of-the-ages style),  slightly distracted, but always completely aware of what’s going on.  Puttering around in her garden, which is of course the entire planet, cooing sweet nothings to her botanical charges. Look, a butterfly just landed on her outstretched finger.  They’re whispering something to each other, but of course we’ll never be privy to what they share.  Sometimes she’ll look over at you while she’s in communion with her various creatures, and I swear she’s telling it some funny little story, probably at the human’s expense.  She’s not above a little teasing, now and then.

I’ve discovered one thing about her, however.  I know what her favorite flower is.

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