Fragile Harebell

One minute, the sun is shining warm on my shoulders as I head outside to look at the remains of my garden. The next minute, the sharp wind bites through my clothes. I bundle up in the morning, only to continually shed layers throughout the day. How does the fragile harebell manage to withstand these enormous changes? It is the only flower still blooming when I take the time to peer into the forest floor. Delicate stem, nodding head of paper-thin petals, tiny flash of color, it holds its own against the modest frosts, reminding me that other blooms will rise up in equally difficult conditions next spring.