Decades ago, I remember watching the prickly pears we all, people, dogs, cattle and horses strove to avoid begin flowering. Those same plants whose long slender spines none of us wanted piercing our flesh produce splendid flowers.
This photo on your left shows one of those plants, I found while walking the pasture and listening to this weeks Economist. I love the pinkish tint to the tips of those buds, which in a day or so will blossom out in a complete yellow.
Looking down into, as I am in this photo, you can see all of the flowers petals partially hiding what each of us must avoid kicking into with tennis shoes or less. Perhaps, you can even catch sight of the honeybee’s backside as it faces down from the stigma onto the style.