I have always thought that thistles are beautiful in their own way. A way that is tough, and survives to create a hard beauty. But have you ever wondered what becomes of them in the fall? Any guesses? I will show you on my next post! This is the first fall I have noticed them dying, and I was quite surprised.
I had a freak accident with my lap desk tonight, so will be unable to visit for the next few days, until the new one comes in the mail. Freak Accident is becoming my middle name!
“All the trees of the forest will join the procession, exuberant with applause. No more thistles, but giant sequoias, no more thorn bushes, but stately pines— Monuments to me, to , living and lasting evidence of .”