The tall thin stalks bend under the force of the wind. Even the lightest touch pushes them towards the ground. In the constant battle of heat, rain, cold and gusts the plant holds its own. It's delicate nature in the wind is deceiving of the strenght of the roots which hold fast to the ground. I try to pull it out, but the roots refuse to give in. Stuck in a cat's game of tug-a-war, I give in before the plant does. The plant stands its ground, undisrupted.
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