Bad blogger...bad.

I am a really bad blogger. Seriously....as hard as I try it never gets done. Ugh. Concentrate. Focus. Write. Sleep.

So I have been crazy busy with a political campaign, a wedding, a trip, work, a community organization I am active in, a winter formal party, friendships, a relationship and family ties to keep up. The doctor said my blood pressure is a tad high as is my cholesterol. When the hell do I have time to exercise or eat right. What does she want from me? :)

I drive to work everyday, much to the chagrin of my waistline and the environment. This is the way it has to be. For the past month or so, I have been watching this plant, what at first seemed to be a large weed, grow on this island near the round about going into Harvard Sq. It started off small and leafy, reaching up as hard and high as it could, hoping for a kiss from the sun. Its leaves started to spread out, covering its little plot of soil. It grew bigger and bigger as the summer went on, til one day it bloomed. It was a gorgeous and immense sunflower, head up , bent slightly under its own weight. How amazing! I had watched this flower grow all summer and suddenly there is was, yellow and alive, petal arching delicately with it seeds of life plump, chest out for the birds to come take away. Circle of life.

And then one day, it started drooping with age and time. I decided that my appreciation from afar needed to end and I walked during my lunch hour to pay my respects at the island. I took a few pictures, which don't do it justice, trying to capture the magnificence of its life. The day was sunny, the breeze was warm, the flower heavy with seed. It was an honor to stand in its presence.

I drove by the island today as I do everyday looking for the flower the came to symbolize a life struggle to me - claiming its small piece of earth, fighting to grow amidst the asphalt and fumes, people passing with no second thought, stretching to heights beyond its capability, yet still trying, bright yellow and green in the middle of the gray concrete jungle - only to find that it was gone, cut down, too weighty for its own good perhaps, too ugly for those who keep up the island. Now there simply stands the stalk and soon I can imagine it will be gone too.

What does it say about us...those who work too hard, those who stretch beyond our means despite being told we can't, hoping for a kiss from the sun, those trying to spread our wings and claim our little spot on this earth? Circle of life cannot be denied, I guess.