I have three hearts and blue blood flowing, I can change colors without knowing. With eight arms, I swim and crawl, leaving an ink cloud to hide from all. What am I?

The perfect tool to mill grain that only needs a puff of windy chains

I paint the fields in scarlet hue, my seeds top bread and bagels too. Yet from my sap strange dreams may creep, what flower gently lulls to sleep?

Invisible rain from your skin, a natural shower when heat's your kin; the gym's symphony when effort's in play, or when nerves dance in a stressful ballet.

A rattle snake won’t do this, but bushes will. If a western movie was filmed in all red and called le. This word might also work.