I have it bad for echinacea right now. I want it in my sight whenever I'm in the front field. I make excuses to brush by it, see how it is doing. That sweet soft pink petal edge contrasting with the hard orange-brown center on a stem that is solid like a small tree branch. A medicinal herb. Tall. Well branched. A bringer of beneficials. Modestly gorgeous, the kind of flower that gets more beautiful the more you get to know it. I want to grab up a big armful and breath it in, distill it's essence and drop by drop sustain myself with it for a while.