Driving out to the ocean this morning, I almost missed these daffodils hidden along a woodsy section of road. I stayed awhile, absorbing nature’s beauty. I kept thinking of the eight-year-old boy, who must have been so proud watching his father run the Boston Marathon. A little boy blown up as he ran out to greet his father. All the people whose lives will never be the same again. These people must have been on top of the world just to run in the Boston Marathon. Now they return home amputees. Bombs made of ball bearings and nails. Who could have so much hate in them to do this? I asked myself this everyday, as the world gets more violent. It amazes me that flowers still continue to bloom in such a hateful world.
