A few days after I planted my neat and tidy, as-they-should-be rows, a scattering of sunflowers sprouted their heads through the earth after slumbering all winter.
Out of place, I let them be.
They wildy outstretched themselves through the onions, carrots, and beets. Reaching daily towards the sun, working their way up over half my height, in June.
Out of bounds, out of order, making the rules up as they go. As they grow.
I always knew I liked sunflowers.