6.3.2024. Monday. Spring. 21st year.

Today, I attempt to fix scaling issues for mobile users viewing this website.

But, before I do that, why don't I go outside, smell the air, and listen to the birds for a while?

It could be nice.

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I saw a new bird, recently. A brown thrasher. And yesterday I saw my first mockingbird, too.

And I did some weeding, a bit of tugging unwanted plants from the soil of my front garden bed, which by now has been taken over by clovers.

Would you have pulled the clovers, too?

Would you have yanked the clovers from the earth, cruelly denying them the right to live if they too did not bless you with their existence?

Would you have left the dandelions and similar to thrive in the garden bed, unlike me?

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How different are we from one another?

What do you think is beautiful?

Are you beautiful?

Am I?

Am I only as beautiful as the plants whose roots I remove from the soil every day?

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What makes something beautiful?

What makes something not beautiful?

Are some things, like sunsets and butterflies, inherently beautiful?

Are some things, like house flies and mud, inherently not beautiful?

Are dandelions more beautiful than forget-me-nots?

Does that give them more of a right to live?

Does your beauty give you more of a right to live?

Does mine?

end.