Not Knowing

I do not have photos of the plant I write about below, but it lives among these others.

Walking in the prairie recently, I noticed a plant I had not seen before. It stretched sideways rather than reaching up the way most other prairie plants do. Small, green fruit hung on its branches, and its leaves were flat, shaped a little like the leaves on jade plants. Its green, though, was paler. From some angles, its leaves seemed to have deep blue shadows, almost the color of delphinium. The shifting blue made it seem the plant had sprouted flowers all of a sudden, but only temporarily.

I do not know the name of this plant. And I do not mind not knowing.

Because I did not know its name, because it was unfamiliar, I looked at it more closely. Pale purple bee balm was also blooming that evening,and though I remember its flowers well, I cannot tell you the shape of its leaves—and I have been familiar with that plant for years. Knowing it was bee balm, I moved on. Not knowing the other plant, I stopped and paid attention.