Now that Autumn is in full swing, pink and yellow don’t bloom from nearby neighborhood gardens anymore. However, during one of my many walks this summer, I thoroughly enjoyed the sight of these pink and yellow flowers.
Their name escapes me (or was never there to begin with…).
So I’ll just call these the Fun Flowers of the Day. 🙂 Unless someone can fill me in.
Happy Thursday everyone! Hang in there. Here’s hoping that the next time these flowers are in bloom, life will be back to the “normal” we used to know.
Yesterday I visited a local apple, peach and lots of other fruit orchard. It also featured a socially distant Harvest Festival of sorts. By the time we arrived, however, it was late afternoon – which for me – is perfect camera time.
Behind the buildings selling fruits, local vegetables and their specialty – apple cider donuts – was a huge field of sunflowers. It looked like a convention of yellow…everyone slouching and trying to pay attention.
The sunflowers struggled to lift their faces to the sun. Their drooping leaves and browning petals evidence of the area’s severe drought.
However, as with anything…there are always exceptions…and I did discover a sunflower rising a bit above the rest. Its face backlit and lifted.
I discovered these sweet little wildflowers yesterday on a walk along the local river. The chain link fence always provides an interesting backdrop to flower escapees as I like to call them. Flowers and vines and such that Will Not Be Contained.
Mmm. Maybe too much projection going on, but I call it as I see it.
My husband, aka the sometimes expert in residence, (whose father’s business was hunting, collecting and selling wildflowers worldwide) declared I think Dad called these flowers “Butter and Eggs.”
Is it just me or does Valentine’s Day seem like a really long time ago?
Was it only one month? Four weeks exactly…on February 14th…when my husband handed me this stunning bouquet of six yellow roses?
Happy Valentine’s Day! We tried to figure out how many Valentine’s Days we had spent together, but settled on “over 40…”
Since that day, my life has taken off on an alternate trajectory. Or so it seems.
The morning of the 15th we discovered water had leaked into our bathroom from the condo above us. Our upstairs neighbor left her faucet running unattended into a clogged sink. Water poured through our bathroom ceiling. In condo land, she isn’t held financially responsible. And so it began…the reports…phone calls…repairs…cleanup…costs. The worry about mold. The hours I’ll never get back. Finished just yesterday.
There was a happy four day interlude during a trip – which may be my last one for a long while – to Washington DC to spend time with my children and grandson.
Reports of a new virus started popping up in the news during that visit – the 3rd week of February – but I paid it no mind. That’s happening in China after all.
Then a week ago, news of a crisis affecting one of my sisters activated an intense worry-filled texting chain and phone calls with extended family I had not been in close touch with for many years. However, as many of us realize, a crisis – a matter of life and death crisis – can open a space and lower boundaries – at least for a while. Because…it’s family and you love them. We reach across the divide…anxiously searching for answers. Solutions. Each day and night fraught with worry. Feeling helpless and intermittently hopeless. Emotional support can only do so much.
Today is looking somewhat brighter. Hopefully her crisis has passed enough to be manageable. For now. We cautiously breathe just a bit easier.
The texting chain has now switched to the coronavirus and its affect on all of our lives. Another serious and potentially deadly situation. More anxiety piles on.
Sixty four texts greeted me this morning filled with humorous memes, cartoons and reports of people searching for toilet paper. Long lines at the grocery store. Stockpiling in case of quarantine. The family texting chain continues. Desperate for connection. In a new crisis.
Towards the end of February and the beginning of March, I always looked for signs of crocuses in our front yard. A first sign of Spring. After tramping through the soggy grass, I’d discover them poking up out of the ground despite the cold weather or lingering patches of snow. It wasn’t long before they were in full bloom.
A family of crocuses appeared every March right next to the maple tree. A hardy little bunch, they managed to muscle their way through massive amounts of roots, thatch, rock hard soil and mulch. Year after year.
No gardening effort required on my part.
I liked that.