In the early morning of a day caught between spring and summer, timid breeze and wild heat, a pond speckled with the reflection of a dazzling sun. A cloudless sky hung around it, for the gushing rain had fallen the night before. Bullfrogs croaked to fill the world around themselves with a throaty love song, provoking mockingjays and cicadas to answer with a chirp of their own. An appealing field of blue and red wildflowers completed the setting, naturally the star of the show to compliment the pond, the star of life. However, today, a new focus was set on the center of the park- a flock of dandelions had finally risen to shade their enemies from view, shouting all their existence to the vast world. They had long awaited this day, now the celebrities of nature, petals freshly coated in dew like like thousands of honeybees stripped of their stripes burying themselves together to form a massive hive of golden splendor. They were one against it all, an army of rejected weeds standing up against the assault of red and blue and the worldview. Suddenly, a clatter sounded in the distance- loud, cruel, familiar. Then they were losing members, family, partners, children, trying to hold fast, stay strong, but losing all the same. Soon there were 20, 15, 10, 5... Then the last, catching one last gaze downward at the sneering blue and red blurs before inevitable death by the rotating guillotine. But that was okay- they had sowed seeds of their own and would start anew tomorrow.