Sunflowers have always fascinated me. As a kid, sunflowers were a happy accident. Hardy souls that had been kicked free from my mother's birdfeeder during the winter months, surviving ravenous song birds, snow and ice, to burrow their way into the chilly spring soil. I would watch them send crisp green shoots up into the light shaking their folded tender leaves free from their seed shell. The first two leaves are rounded and opposite. The stem continues upward leaving them behind, quickly forming another two leaves, and then two more finally terminating in a single bud.
To see a field of sunflowers standing like summer soldiers is a sight to behold. Brilliant blooms, hanging their heavy heads in the heat. During the course of the day, they follow the path of the sun, reflecting the first light of day, turning in the white noon light and finally bowing to the last golden rays of evening.
And so, as I stand at my kitchen window, shoulder to shoulder with my sunflower friend this chilly January morning we turn our faces to the east and look for spring.
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