This is the same tickseed the butterflies were after a few photos back. The fritillaries can't resist her - and honestly, neither can I. I caught her in a quiet moment, which is rare. Usually there's something with wings on her, or two somethings, or a bee photobombing the whole scene. But this morning, just briefly, she had the spotlight to herself - sun-facing, still beaded with the last of the overnight rain, leaning forward like she'd noticed me coming and wanted to say good morning. I love this flower. I love that she looks like the sun and loves the sun. A little echo of the thing she's reaching for. She blooms all summer long in the heat that wilts everything else, doesn't fuss, doesn't ask for much, and feeds half the garden's pollinators while she's at it. She's generous in a way that makes them stay. Just - here, take some, there's more where this came from. The bokeh behind her makes me smile too. You can almost see one of her sisters off to the side, soft and out of focus, a reminder that she didn't come alone. Tickseed never does. They show up in cheerful little crowds, and you have to pick one out of the bunch if you want to make a portrait, which I did. She is, without question, one of the easiest subjects I've ever pointed a lens at. No coaxing. No waiting for the light. No drama. Just here I am, sunny side up, ready when you are. I think that's worth something - flowers, and people, who make joy look that easy. Who turn toward and give light without making a production of it. The world needs more sun-faced things.