I can't believe I could forget such a thing as the goldenrod. To forget that she even exists. To whack through the plants in the far pasture, in search of thistle, and taking down what I thought was invasive purple loosetrife in the process. Those tall, long, lanky bodies. It didn't even dawn on me that the goldenrod was still emerging. Still only stems and foliage. Still in the process of becoming.