As I was hurrying my three year old through a
band of trees that surround our local common, I noticed with
distaste how dark it was in the trees and how someone had tipped a pile of rubble nearby. We were almost out of there when my daughter said,
conversationally, “It’s very sparkly in here isn't it.” I was so surprised that I stopped walking and asked, “Where, where is it sparkly?”. “There,” she gestured, pointing to the
side of the path where there was a thicket of dead weeds that had dried over
the summer and been crushed partially down. I looked and then I noticed that
the dry stems had paled and now did glow whitely against the damp, dark
earth under the trees. Then I saw that the flowerheads of the weeds had died
and hardened into their floret shapes which now looked like stars, circles of
stars - there were indeed ‘sparkles’ inside that ugly hedge.
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