
I walked through the corn field, away from the fence where the sound of the wind caressed the dandelion. With every sudden gust of wind a few more seeds were blown away, invisibly gone to find a new home in rich soil. Only one little seed remained attached; the head, almost empty, stood erect and proud. Another gust and now the last seed gone - the dandelion's mission done, a brittle barren head holds on. I keep walking and think of the same field just a few moons away, covered in countless yellow flowers...