On my way to work, I see a new house with a yard that is in progress.  I see evidence that they are working on it, by the little flags that are poking out of the ground to announce the sprinkler placement underneath, and it appears that just last week they poured some beautiful wavy curbing to define where their grass ends and where their other various plantings will begin.  They have this one area along these big rocks used as a retaining wall that is covered in soon to be tumbleweeds, which I just know started out as little teeny tiny plants.  But with a little neglect, they were able to blossom and grow and grow until one day, either the frost came and claimed what life they had left, or they got sprayed with weed killer, and now they are tumble weeds waiting for just the right wind to knock them off their rock wall and give the freedom that they are suited perfectly for.  Rolling, and tumbling along with the very wind that dislodged them from security.

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