The sea of bright coneflowers in my flowerbeds have dwindled down to a few hardy late season blooms.  Many are now brown seed heads tossed into the grass down the street to encourage wild sprouting flowers.  Several are slowly fading to brown and I’m reluctant to cut them and give into the truth of summer’s end.  And I do rather enjoy the more subtle beauty of quiet aging.

beauty of aging

For more submissions to this week’s challenge see the original post here.