Just a foot from my nose was a sprout of cow itch vine struggling for life in the sand.
I suspect a booted foot will do what the elements have failed to do, that being the sure destruction of the young plant.
Last fall, a dried seed fluttered from a tattered pod to settle on the ground. More wind. High water. Much weather.
Now, the vine sprouts in the microclimate of a sandbank some 10 to 15 degrees hotter than the surrounding area.
How it survives, I have no idea, but it does.
Now, take a closer peek at the picture. Scan about half way to the lower right corner but just a small click up. You'll see a black dot in a dimple of sand.
Earlier, a flying ant had alighted on my arm, and it tickled me. I puffed the bug away, but it was drenched in my sweat and could not fly.
It fell on the sand and wiggled a little, then it lay still a moment, only to leap into a frantic roll on it's side and back. The roll slowed and stopped. In 30 seconds, the bug was still, dead in the heat of the sand.
It slowly shriveled into little or nothing over the next hour. The passing ants ignored the small feast.
I found myself in that vine and bug. Which and when is hard to say.
Location:Westgrove St,Raleigh,United States