On the fifth of May there grew a thistle in the garden near the house. I did not pull it up because I was busy unpacking my belongings and putting them all in their own places.
It wasn't until the next day that I saw the thistle at all. I was exploring the garden, with its great thickets of grass, piles of rocks, well and spirit house, when I passed by the thistle, hidden near a crowd of lilies.
Now was the time to pull out that thistle so I took it by the stem and gave a tug. Out it came with half its roots.
'I should dig the roots out.' I said to myself, but having no tool for digging, I continued on my way back to the house.
No comments:
Post a Comment