I want to LIVE! And be beautiful!
I noticed a house on my commute to and from home that has these little rogue flowers popping out where the sidewalk meets the retaining wall–seems hardly enough soil to survive, and yet they seem to thrive.
Yesterday, while walking home I saw this little guy sprouted on the side of the wall, high above his peers who had settled themselves to a life on the ground.
I definitely took note of the resiliency of the flower, and how sweet it looked on the side of the wall. I kept walking, past the little flower on the wall, and his buddies on the sidewalk. Though the thought briefly popped into my mind to snap a photo, binary thoughts entered my head at exactly the same time: it was late, I was kinda tired, I wanted to see the pooch.
It’s funny how the brain works. I’d gone no further than 4 paces, truly, when my mind began to argue with itself, and the guilt trip rang louder than thoughts of going home:
“You’ll regret not taking a photo of this right now.”
“Hey, there’s no one around, you won’t get mugged, just snap a quick photo.”
And within those four paces, my mind was made up.
This kind of devil on my shoulder I don’t mind, I suppose. The “stop and smell the roses devil,” who makes me do artsy fartsy things that increases my quality of life…and increases my chances of looking like a victim…I guess disguised as the patron saint of art, it’s still a devil on your shoulder.
So, I did an about face and took a couple of photos. As I was walking away, someone on the porch of the flower house cleared his throat a couple times to let me know he was there–a “just sayin'” kind of clearing of the throat, not a “get off my lawn you crazy kids!” Hey, thanks for the beautiful moment, neighbor, and I’m glad the devil didn’t make me pick your flower.