Thistle Do

I hope we never lose that absorbing fascination of finding animals in the clouds, alien faces in the knots of timber, body contours and facial profiles in the outlines of mountains, and knobbly trees that look like wrinkly old men with warty noses. In fact I have a habit of finding faces in all manner of places, and they always make me smile, especially when they take me by surprise. ‘See the clown up there, with curly hair and big ears?’ sounds much more interesting to a child than pointing out the billowing cumulo-nimbus.

The humble thistle is the bane of any gardener. Let it go long enough and it will produce enough seeds to replicate itself countless times over, but this tenacious intruder we attack with such gusto still has a beauty all its own. The Scots chose it as their national emblem for a reason, reflecting something of their own tenacity, their ability to survive in a hostile environment, their strength and durability. I’m digressing a little, so back to the reason for drawing attention to the plain, ordinary thistle.

At different stages of growth, in amongst those painful prickles there can be another side, a more humorous one if we care to take the time and pay attention.

Smiling thistle

greets the

morning sun