The Adventures of a Weed by Donna Williams

Once upon a time, there was a weed who lived among the grass, in a patch by the road, in a street in the suburbs where nothing changed and things always stayed the same. The weed liked living here among the grass, in a patch by the road, in a street in the suburbs where nothing changed and things always stayed the same. Every day the weed would watch the sun rise. The cars would drive by. The birds would come down onto the grass. The people would walk past with their children and their dogs. Then the sky would get dark again and the moon would come out. The cars and the birds and the people and their children and their dogs would go home to dinner and to bed. Then the weed would go to sleep until the next day, when it would all be the same…

But one day, as the sun went down, a fierce wind began to blow. Stronger and stronger the wind began to sing, “Ooooo, ooooo, ooooo” blowing the weed from side to side. “Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the anxious weed said nothing.
Stronger and stronger, the fierce wind blew singing, “Ooooo, ooooo, ooooo”. The weed held on tightly to the earth with its roots. The weed didn’t want to go anywhere. But the wind pulled the weed out of the ground.

Higher and higher, the wind blew the weed, up, up, up into the darkness of the night sky, up, up, up, into the clouds. ““Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the weed said nothing.

Out of the darkness bright lights appeared. The weed was blown around the tops of tall buildings which reached right up into the sky. But the weed was too scared to enjoy the bright colored lights. “Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the weed said nothing.

Outside of the city, great black ocean waves rocked far below. Sparkles shone magically on the water, the waves moved to a rhythm. But the weed was too scared to enjoy sparkles shining on the water. “Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the weed said nothing. Where the dark ocean ended, rolling hills began. Up and down the hills went like a big green blanket upon the earth.
But the weed was too scared to enjoy the rolling green hills. “Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the weed said nothing.

The hills went higher and higher, until they were mountains. Soft gentle trees snuggled together in the forest below.
But the weed was too scared to enjoy the gentle, peaceful forest. “Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the weed said nothing. At the top of a mountain the green turned to blue and snow glistened like icing on a most delicious cake.
But the weed was too scared to enjoy the glistening snow. “Ooooo”, sang the wind once more. But the weed, of course, STILL said nothing.

But there, high above the mountain top was something familiar. It was the moon. The stars around the moon twinkled and shone and the weed finally felt the magic of the night. No longer too scared to enjoy seeing it’s friend the moon. “Ahhhh”, sang the weed with glee. And now… the wind said nothing. The wind calmed right down and the weed drifted gently down, down, down to the ground. The moon closed its eyes and went to sleep.

The next day the sun came up, cheery, warm and bright. The weed had settled its roots down into the lush earth in a lovely big field among many other weeds at the foot of a tall wise old tree… which never changed and always stayed the same.

—
Polly Samuel (aka ‘Donna Williams’)
Author, artist, consultant and presenter.
http://www.donnawilliams.net

I acknowledge Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people as the Traditional Owners of this country throughout Australia, and their connection to land and community.