The Flower and the Road
There is a bright orange flower growing on the highway. Some seed found the small crack to the left of the fast lane right next to the center barrier. It sprouted a small green tuft of leaves and a single, shining flower. The plant bobs cheerily in the wind from the cars, unaware that smashing death rushes by a mere foot away.
I am traveling the highway. I go fast because I’ve got to get where I’m going. If I move to slow something might hit me from behind. Speed is exhilarating. The wind rushes by. I am going places. I become one with the vehicle and the vibrations are ground into my bones. Even when I make short stops, my body thrums with the memory of motion. Can’t stop long. Have to keep going.
But I see the flower on the road I just traveled. The flower I already passed by without noticing. How many other tiny beauties have I passed or crushed in my hurry?