Earlier in the day, a gentle rain had fallen, leaving the air fresh and the sky a beautiful blue. Jessie and her friend Bethany had met in the parking lot of a nearby park, their favorite due to its rolling hills and tree-covered trails.

            A great number of pine needles had fallen when the winds blew through overnight. With each step, that sweet smell greeted the friends’ noses. They’d set off, as before, by first climbing a rather steep hill, one deeply rutted from previous rains.

            Talking was virtually impossible on the narrow trail, so it wasn’t until they’d reached the place where the ground leveled out that the two could share thoughts.

“How are your classes going?” Bethany asked as she avoided a pile of doggie doo.

“Pretty good. I love my Botany class.” Jessie popped open the top of her water bottle and took a small sip. “I knew nothing about plants, but the professor had a good reputation.”

“So, are the rumors correct?”

Jessie nodded. “Dr. Anderson explains everything so clearly that it makes sense.”

“That’s interesting.” Bethany stopped to look up when the trill of a blue jay sounded overhead. “It’s right there,” she said as she pointed to a high branch. The friends smiled when the jay titled its head, seeming to be looking at them.

“I’m learning lots about plants, like how to take care of them,” Jessie said, “but I’m not sure I’d take more Botany classes.”

“If I recall correctly, you’ve got a brown thumb.”

“Exactly.” The two resumed walking, the trail leading up one of the ten hills for which the walk was named. “I wish I could grow the kinds of plants that the Monarch butterflies like. I’d plants several on my patio.”

“My friend Peter has a huge backyard,” Bethany said. She pointed toward a meadow that had appeared on the right side of the trail. “It has lots of green grass, like over there, but he keeps it trimmed. The best part, however, are his gardens.”

Jessie spotted a doe and fawn grazing under a tree. “Look how cute they are!”

“Deer come into Peter’s yard and eat his plants. He’s built fences around some, but the deer, so far, have been able to jump right over.”

“Do you help him garden?”

Bethany laughed. “Not me. Too much work. I tried once, but my back killed me for days.”

Jessie stopped to examine a small green shoot poking up through the pine-needle covered trail. “What kind of plant is that?”

Bethany snickered. “Shouldn’t you know? You’re the one taking Botany.”

“Not this one. It’s so tiny. And brave. Imagine popping up here, where a bicyclist is likely to smash you to bits.”

Jessie touched a leaf. “It’s fuzzy. And soft.”

Bethany smiled after she did the same. “Just like a baby’s butt.”

By the time Bethany stood up, Jessie had stepped off the trail, and seemed to be searching for something. “What are you doing?”

“There should be more. My professor said plants grow in clusters. To enhance reproduction. Plus to not overload a particular area.”

Bethany took out her phone and snapped a few pictures. “When I get back home, I’ll upload the photos and do a search. Within seconds I’ll know what this is.”

The two resumed walking when their search proved fruitless.

“I just can’t get that plant out of my mind,” Jessie said. “So tiny, so alone. It makes me think of stories I’ve read about homeless kids. Imagine living on the street, no adult to shelter you.”

Bethany laid an arm across her friend’s shoulder. “That’s what I like about you, my friend. You relate everything you see to something happening in the world.”

They continued along the trail, and after reaching the top of a particularly steep hill, they stopped under the huge tree to enjoy the shade.

“I have to,” Jessie said. “If I don’t think about others, if I don’t worry about that tiny plant, then who will?’