I HAVE A TRAY of crape myrtle seeds which are beginning to sprout and grow. First, a scant few had emerged, then others as days progressed.
Each seems sensitive to its surroundings, while accelerating into rapid growth, competing against all for space and nutrients, unaware if it will become an adult of stature, or be dwarf-like, or fail to survive at all, until after the vagaries of nature can be played out, to see.
But, within the soul of each sprout is the belief that a perfect world could unfold.
Thwarticus 