The last few days I’ve been watching this flower grow out of a pile of decaying leaves in an empty flower pot.  Because my husband insists of feeding the birds, we find flowers struggling to survive in the oddest places, their existence a testimony to hope. This little one – a long-legged teen – peers out at the rest of the yard perhaps dreaming of having her feet planted in real dirt.  Maybe she hopes for a friend, a partner, or a drop of rain on her face.

We did get a few drops of rain this afternoon, enough to clear the air of the dust and smoke.  Not enough to wash the grime from the cars, not enough to make a dent in the drought.  Not enough, but like a pile of decaying leaves, giving hope.

(this post is supposed to be for #WordlessWednesday but alas a few words trickled onto to the page and I didn’t have the heart to deny them!)