Camera Clicks and Commentary from a Kansas Farm Wife
Small Town Christmas
Friday, August 26, 2016
I Never Promised You A Rose Garden
At first, the yellow flowers were the ones that caught my eye as I delivered lunch to the field. But then, when I got out of the car, I realized that the white "flowers" along the ditch mimicked the white clouds in the sky. (Randy later told me that he thinks the white plants are ragweed. My eyes may like them, but my nose definitely doesn't.)
Yellow flowers wave and bob a greeting from the ditches and fence line as the Kansas wind blows more hot air than a know-it-all. I wonder if the yellow blooms were part of the prairie landscape as this area was settled? I imagine that a pioneer woman would be encouraged to see a splash of color in the sea of grasses. Maybe it would even make her think she could settle here.
In 35 years of living in the same area and traveling the same roads, you'd think I would have seen every indigenous wildflower. I suppose the timely rains throughout the summer have nourished some extra beauty. Or maybe it's just being at the right place at the right time. It's enough to send me to the Kansas Wildflower website to try and figure out these latest specimens by color. "The Color Purple" is more than a book and movie - at least on that site!
But, even with online resources, these purple beauties are still a mystery guest in my peripheral vision.
They are as pretty as any mixed bouquet.
Who needs a game of "Name That Tune" when you can play "Name that Wildflower!"
I guess I need an in-house botanist. If anyone can name the prairie wildflowers today, please share!
But wildflowers aren't the only beauties along the roadways. A milo field changing hues as it ripens toward harvest provided a beautiful "bouquet" against a stormy summer sky.
And, for just a moment, a glimpse of rainbow hue dipped toward the horizon, just above the colorful field.
Just like an ever-shifting sunset, the landscape changes colors hour by hour and day by day .,, sometimes, even minute by minute. And I'll appreciate God's handiwork - whether I know the flowers' names or not.