In Ode, Intimations of Immortality from Reflections of Early Childhood, William Wordswoth wrote:
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower
We will grieve not, but rather find
Strength in what remains behind.
I was reminded of those lines when I saw a single blade of grass that had gone to seed and was blooming deep in the woods. The tiny flowers were a sight to behold.