The Sunflower

There is a field of some kind of grain near my home in Corsier. Maybe not a grain, but a small beige knob. The plants stand about 18 inches high. Next to the field on one side is cow corna nd on the other are grape vines. In the middle of the field is one very tall sunflower, supervising everything.

Does it feel lonely, being away from other sunflowers, or is it proud to be different? Does it feel rich that when it turns in one direction it has a clear view of the lake, that it could never have if it were stranded in among the millions of sunflowers? Did it bribe the wind last year to carry its seed away from its sisters and brothers? And will it escape being harvested and turned into oil by daring to be different?