As if the Earth were a thick slice of homemade bread, Mother Nature has gone ahead and slathered it thickly with buttercups. As far as the eye can see almost everywhere, there are buttercups. And like warm and thick butter on delicious bread, the buttercups are tantalizing on the roadsides. The picture doesn’t do them justice because their color is a dramatic brilliant yellow that mesmerizes the eyes.
|A field of buttercups.|
I remember running through fields and fields of buttercups when I was young. We would grab a flower and hold it to our friends’ throats and ask them if they liked butter, to which they would usually respond yes. If the brilliant yellow color was reflected on their throats, it meant they did, indeed, like butter, and we would tell them that they spoke the truth. If they said no and the reflection had shown on their throats (as it always did), we would tell them that they were lying and that they did, indeed, like butter.
Because, after all, a buttercup cannot lie. Its tiny yellow flower lives but a short time turned up toward the sun in an ecstatic embrace, and to hell with the rest of the world. For a buttercup, the sun is all there is. Now that is honesty.