As Fast as Thou Shalt Wane

As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow'st,
In one of thine, from that which thou departest,
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st,
Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
Without this folly, age, and cold decay,
If all were minded so, the times should cease,
And threescore year would make the world away:
Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
Look whom she best endowed, she gave thee more;
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:

She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

- William Shakespeare (sonnet #11)

A few weeks back I blipped a dead thistle, with an accompanying quote to the effect that the weeds will win.

Today I noticed that next to that dead thistle is a new thistle that has grown strong and true. Indeed, Nature bats last - and as fast as it wanes, it grows.