A cactus garden is an apt metaphor for a village.  You get a great many varieties of cactus together, and you'll begin to notice they are lot like people. Almost all of them, even the most prickly, can be tolerable, almost lovable sometimes.  A few are not... ever.  Nasty dispositions that repel every living thing.  Some are whimsical.  Others are treacherous. Even the most forbidding may have incredibly beautiful flowers; and sometimes that beauty, when it fades, wilts into repugnance.  The fruit, if you can get to it, can be delicious. Lately, I've felt a kinship with a wizened, gray-haired specimen.  Which are you?