Protected by beauty

We raised a simple prayer
       Before we left the spot,
That in the general mowing
       That place might be forgot;
Or if not all so favored,
       Obtain such grace of hours,
That none should mow the grass there
       While so confused with flowers.
~ excerpt from “Rose Pogonias”, Robert Frost

Every year I wait for my sunflowers to hit full bloom. This is the moment.

But they lean all over the place, obviously feeling no allegiance to grow straight up, like other more subservient plants. Because of their free-range conscience, they risk danger of severe pruning.

Yet for today, their glorious beauty alone protects them from the shears. I’ll enjoy while I can.