Happy smiling faces across the fields, beaming out at the setting sun, shyly curling petalled heads, dipping in need of moisture. soon to be consigned to crushes or crushers to be milled to oil, rendered to pulp, reduced to fibre and fed to beasts.

Long rows of potential mazes, lost worlds among the stems, amazing parallels of lines and forms, set out across the prairie wide.

Harvested not as flowers but as food for chickens, sunflower seeds for teenage conversation, the sharing of adolescents and husks abandoned carelessly behind.


Easy grown, easy fed, easy happy children, look at the flowers, look at the plants. easy happy flowers, easy happy planting to make the growing work. I planted, it grew, in painless easy cultivation, with easy happy outcomes , what more can we ask , happy faces, plump seeds, happy chickens.