here if you're wanting to identify your own wildflowers).
I love this guy. With his droopy little petals, he looks like a cute puppy with his tail tucked. I just hope he's not planning on biting me.
Okay, okay, so wildflowers aren't all that dangerous as long as a horse doesn't decide to chew on one that might be poisonous. And as long as they don't choke out my precious grass, then I suppose they can stay.
There is one though that I do not tolerate on my property (I sound so commanding, but honestly, the plant probably has an upper-hand seeing as after nearly four years of living here, I still find plenty of them around).
"What a b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l, vibrant purplish pink flower! And what an interesting shape!" you say . . .
"But what are those awful, thorny, pokey leaves?" you begin to wonder . . .
None other than a two foot bull thistle!
These things don't even pretend to play nice. Everything about them is painful and uninviting. If they weren't already a nuisance enough, they're practically hydras--you know, the mythical creature that when one head was cut off, it gained two? Yeah, these thistles are just as awful. I've found some that I thought I had taken care of but were hanging on by a few precious fibers. They were growing again like it was a flesh wound!
It had to go. Out came the machete, down went the plant. I win. Once you know their secret weakness, it's a lot easier to defeat the beast, assuming you are diligent. They are annuals so if you prevent them from seeding and spawning a new generation of evil, that plant won't be passing on its genes. If I sound a bit harsh, forgive me but if you've ever tumbled into a thistle, you're well aware that not all flowers are friends.