A marigold washed up on shore
I always wonder the stories of little things like this. Some fisherman with a flower behind his ear, then a gust of wind. Or a seagull with a love for the color orange, but slippery claws. Or a baby duck playing at nipping off stems along the edge of the water. Or some angry soul who must rip apart all bits of beauty and throw them into the lake. But then, I think this still looks rather beautiful, even if bruised and a little muddy.
