I love these little, round, yellow flowers; they look so tactile - like tiny, fat cushions. Every day I walk into the park, past the leafless trees at the entrance, and I smile down at the Wild Turnip glowing so cheerfully by the path and then nod to the Wild Chamomile, valiantly bright despite the cold and the rain. I guess they are weeds (what else would be so tough?) but I prefer to think of them as wild flowers. I like their attitude.
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