Small Bloom

This picture was taken in late spring – during a period when vibrant bursts of color were pushing out of every flower bed and bursting from every tree.

Some 8,000 daffodils bloom on Regent’s campus each year, and we have recently won a Beautification Award from the city of Virginia Beach for our landscaping and gardens.
It truly is a beautiful place. And that day in late spring, I shot about fifty pictures of fragrant, vivacious flowers all over the campus.

But this one tiny bloom caught my eye on my way back to the office. I’m sure it’s a stretch to even call it a flower.

Those who know better would probably classify it as a weed. It was so unassuming and silent, though – even if I were to oblige that botanists’ classification, I could hardly call it noxious.The thing is, it was simply doing its part. I hesitate to make a metaphor out of every picture, but notice how its head is turned into the sun and how its once plain yellow petals are illuminated to a brilliant hue.

Who is it there for? What is its purpose? In all reality, it could likely not ever bloom, and no one would care...especially since its “day in the sun” (please forgive me; I hate puns), comes at the exact time thousands of other flowers are showing off their new spring digs.

But it doesn’t ask those questions. It just blooms – turns its head into the sun, and blooms.