Milk thistle. We fed it to our rabbits. It's soft. It bleeds a milky sap like bitter lettuce; old lettuce. Before we ever got round to generations of selection. It arrives on the wind. It thrives. Goldfinch feast on those seeds and still there are more. Plenty. With no thought and no care it provides. And when our eyes are tired of seeing weeds and are surprised, the colours are pure and the shapes are radiant and the textures sublime.
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|Beautiful by gardengus||Jan 22, 2020 7:33 AM||3|
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