Heidi is hosting the Poetry Friday Round-Up at My Juicy Little Universe.
The pasture on one side of the farm is dotted with clumps of stinging nettle. They look lovely, and my research tells me that sheep (who will hopefully graze there come next year) do, in fact, eat these. Well, what I’m learning is that some sheep will deign to eat these. So, the question is should I dig them all up, dig some of them up, or just hope for the best: all of our sheep will delight in grazing upon this nettle. The last option is what I am actually counting on, because these nettles are beasts to get near, and they sink their roots pretty deeply into the soil. This seems to me a pretty hopeless task, all in all.
I was thinking through my various options this morning, edging closer and closer to a final decision, but wanting to do so without the appearance of fear (those thorns look to be at least an inch and a half long) or laziness (is this really how I want to spend this beautiful summer day?), when the thought came to me that these plants look like they belong here on this rugged pasture. The purple blooms add a dash of color to the varying shades of green, and they look rather elegant as they sway and dance in the wind. Who cares if they are just weeds? They are at home in the pasture…they belong.