It took me a few days to recognize there was a problem.
By the time I acted, it was too late for the once hearty stand of Queen Anne’s Lace out front. A strange weed had woven itself through their ranks, wound its disembodied tendrils around their stems and blossoms, and littered them with thousands of demonic little flower clusters, each bud about the size of a tapioca pearl.
I’m a little creeped out right now, and would find it comforting if someone could confirm that this unfamiliar flora is in fact of this world.
Flower wars get ugly.