Something About the Wild Flowers

                 I remember when I was four or five, talking to grown-ups about how I loved each and every flower in the forest we were walking through. It wasn't the "They're just weeds, dear" itself, but the way they said it that took me aback: the flat, impassive tone in which they carelessly diminished the glittering gems into something that sounded dull, even inferior.

                 Today, my adoration for wild flowers hasn't changed a bit. Over the years, my understanding of how they captivate me has become clearer. There is something in their attitude in blooming, the way they hold themselves and how they fit into the world around them. 

         A "bouquet" of green bristlegrass with daisies     

                 They lack the sophistication seen in carefully gardened flowers, but that is what is so charming about them. They are not polished, not manicured; they embody the paradox of having the fine details that make them very exquisite without being too refined. They are subtle instead, almost suggestive in their beauty.

                 A subtle suggestive beauty

                 I admire where, when, and how they burst into life. There are no specific boundaries as to what spaces they can occupy - they grow in the most unexpected places sometimes, not caring who sees them or what threatens them nearby. They escape the contained edges without a second thought, simply aching to see the world, whether it offers them sunshine, rain, snow or wind. They seem adventurous and carefree.

Bursting into life, freely blooming without borders

                 Their strong-willed character in seeing the world for themselves make them more youthful and naive at the same time. They are childish in the way they venture out without a wisp of fear,  to such an extent that they look puerile, even. That's why I can always sense a pinch of silliness, a little mischievousness. 

                 A single flower seems a little too fragile. But when I dare to place a fingertip on its velvety petal, it withstands the force with surprising ease. I wonder at the vitality and energy it holds in its tiny self. 

                 A clover flower among daisies

                 It is that slight imperfection, the way they show up unintentionally but oh so cheerfully that make them so delectable, so lovable. It's autumn, so I'll be seeing my beloved wild flower Cosmos bipinnatus (garden cosmos, Mexican aster) at Yangjaecheon soon!

Cosmos beyond (Picture taken on my recent trip to Pyeongchang)