Another Favorite: Sunflowers. My first real experience with sunflowers was the first time I was in Armenia. I was a young teen then, vibrant and so excited about being in the land of the forefathers on my dad's side. I had spent years studying the history and language of the Armenian people. I was finally in the land itself, given the privilege of viewing the legends in the flesh, as would be said, were they real persons. The ancient churches built atop toppled pagan temples; the monuments and memorials dedicted to the memory of past pain and torture; the mountains that whisper songs of long ago... all of it was right there and I witnessing them firsthand!

So, standing outside my room in Dzaghgatsor, I was handed a sunflower. I remember it so vividly, like it was yesterday. The head of the flower was placed in my arms. It was huge and dark, dried to blackness. The yellow petals having been dried off. I looked down at this large circular maze of blackness, and was told to pick out one of the tiny black seeds that was sitting in their pockets. I picked one out and cracked it open with my teeth. The center of the seed was... well, nutty and flavorful for all its tiny size.

That is my memory of sunflowers. They are my favorite type of flower... not very romantic, but I love them anyway.