Today, by the path, a snowdrop slowly unfolding against the brown earth,- a startling touch of soft white. What a burden that little flower bears.... for on it's fragile petals rests the weight of our winter fatigue!
I remember as a child, walks to look for spring flowers were always glorious. Down through muddy fields we tramped seeing who could first spy the spring beauties, snowdrops, May apples, Solomon's seal. Horrified as I am to admit it I think we picked some! But we didn't know.
We didn't know.
How often we are hearing that phrase lately. Often the disclaimer has to do with a racist context. Now as children in the 40's that we didn't know not to pick the rare flowers is understandable. As a person who is alive in 2015 and doesn't know a racial slur when they hear it.... ah, well, that is indeed a horse of a different color - words Mr. Shakespeare's was first to use, apparently
If snowdrops rise against a melting freeze might there hope for a rebirth of civility as well?
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