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Plant Life

Being a plant is great.  Well…it can be.  Sitting in the sun, enjoying the fresh air all day long, drinking in the oxygen, soaking up the minerals in the soil, feeling the wind sway you this way and that…who wouldn’t like that?  

Houseplants.  Houseplants don’t get it.  Then again, how could they?  They sit by a window, if they’re lucky, get some water poured on their nutrient-barren soil if the human they live with happens to remember.  No wind, unless you count the air vent they sit under, which probably smells like dust and dead spiders.  

You know what I think it is?  Industrialization.  I think so many humans live in a world so full of metal and plastic, that they forget that plants are alive, too.  We have feelings, maybe more simple than theirs, but feelings nonetheless.  We need to be loved, we need good music and good food, we need to be allowed to grow and reach our full potential.

Now, I am just a dandelion.  I realize most humans don’t particularly appreciate me–thank goodness I’m a mountain dandelion and not a backyard dandelion.  I doubt having your head chopped off every week or so feels very good.  As a dandelion, I am among the more humble plants.  Sure, if I had my choice I’d be a magnificent sequoia or an elegant iris.  But I’m not, I’m a dandelion.  But I still love the sun on my face, good water in my roots, the wind in my petals.  

Not all of us get to be outside plants.  Some of us are houseplants.  Some of us start outside, and get forced inside.  As a plant, there really isn’t much we can do about where we are.  But even a houseplant can find something good about where they are.  In fact, houseplants have a lot of things we wild plants don’t.  They get to bring a little life to the stark, human world.  

I guess you can’t really blame the humans, either.  Sure, they can move about wherever they please, more or less, but the world they know is limited by their experiences, just like mine, just like a houseplant.  We depend on each other to expand and to brighten each other’s world.  

I’m just a dandelion–a weed, some people say.  But you’d be hard pressed to find anyone as golden as me.  I will offer what I can offer, you offer what you can offer, and we’ll all be okay because I am me, you are you, and that’s what makes the world so nice.

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