When I was a child, my Dad would spend precious time spreading weedkiller over our expansive garden, in a bid to rid his nice, neat lawn of daisies. I never understood it. To me, the daisies enhanced the green grass. Wildness was my way, nature my delight, from early on.
The old saying – one man’s weed is another man’s wildflower – is so true.
Here’s an oft-overlooked weed or wildflower: Ribwort Plantain:
…which, to me, is looking pretty amazing just now – in the same area as the Campion that I photographed on the edge of Summerfields Woods a few weeks ago (see Champion Campion).
Like the Campion, taking a few pics was irresistible.
My Dad and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things for a long time. But the Source of Life, the giver of grass and weeds (or wildflowers) is also the Instigator of Reconciliation.
The Spirit has a way of bringing about profound change in our lives, and the relationship between my Dad and me was miraculously and permanently restored, as you can read about in my autobiographical book on physical, psychological and spiritual homelessness: Coming Home for Good.
Love – the kind that comes from above – transcends not only differences of opinion on flowers, but also personalities, cultures, races, worldviews and, yes, even religion.
Love accepts. Love shatters walls and opens arms.