The thistles are mowed. My friend, Don, told me about seeing a painting of wheat field at the Hermitage in Russia. In the middle of the painting was one thistle. What kind of thistle was it? Why, a Russian Thistle of course!
Mowing the thistles caused me some emotional dissonance. On the one hand, these thistles are a declared noxious weed and it is good riddance. On the other hand, their destruction (perhaps that's too strong a word because mowing only keeps them from going to seed but doesn't kill them) involves mowing habitat that I've created for wildlife. I hope I didn't mow over any birds nests.
At least I made the barn swallows happy. The mowing roused clouds of insects and a flock of barn swallows appeared swerving, darting and consuming their fill. All of this is further proof that a person can never do just one thing. Life is web and what touches any part has consequences for good or ill.
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