Sunflower Lover, 9/11

My husband started receiving acupuncture treatments about a month ago, and those appointments take him to Pine Grove Mills. I often ride along because there are two lovely cemeteries there that I enjoy visiting. And a farmers' market, if you get there at the right time on a Thursday afternoon.

It was 9/11, and I'm not ever really sure how to deal with that. You don't celebrate a day that was an awful day, but somehow, it feels like a requirement that we stop and remember. So I did. I had some of my red, white, and blue stuff on. And Tiny Tiger carried a small flag.

I was visiting the larger cemetery down on a side road, when I spotted this sunflower along the fence. It was a one-off, standing all by itself, and I instantly thought to myself: photo op! Where did it come from? It was like a miracle. Or an alien visitor from some other planet. Shining and yellow. Full of glory. So different from everything else around it.

So I went over and took photos of the lone sunflower, with Tiny Tiger on the fence behind it. (Sorry, he didn't make it into this shot. But he sends his best!) And then I suddenly had the idea that the sunflower looked like a mop-headed person. I had a vision of the sunflower wearing my sunglasses: a vision that was pretty easy to realize. Like so! (Hey, it looks so familiar. Why it looks a bit . . . like ME!)

So here is a silly 9/11 image instead of a sad story of remembrance. This miracle sunflower on the edge of a graveyard seemed like a marker, to me. Yes, there is sorrow. Yes, there is loss. But there is sunshine too, and there are sunflowers, even if only ONE:

A sign of hope, and even joy, reclaimed from sorrow.
So let it be.

Our soundtrack song is George Michael and Elton John, with Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me.