|Sunflowers, August 2014|
|Sunflowers, July 2016|
We don't raise sunflowers. And if I knew who owns the sunflowers in the field just west of Memorial Park Cemetery on Rayl's Hill west of Hutchinson, I would have asked for permission. Really I would have.
|July 18, 2016|
But to the landowner and/or farmer: I promise no sunflowers were harmed in the making of these photos or this blog. I carefully weaved my way through the rows and disturbed nary a one. My going-to-town shoes likely had more damage than the plants.
While visiting the sunflower field, I also drove past a sign at the cemetery which said that trespassers
weren't allowed. Technically, I was probably trespassing, since I parked at the cemetery to walk past the gravestones of the dead and into a field filled with life-pulsing yellow. But I promise I was respectful to the cemetery and its grounds, too.
I drove by the field once before I stopped. I am - by nature and design -
a first-born rule follower.
However, in the end, I stopped a couple of different times. So, yes, call me a trespasser and rebel - at least when it comes to sunflower photos.
The first time I stopped, the sunflowers
were newly bloomed, and the petals fresh and unscathed. But the sky was
less interesting. Still, I liked finding this fiercely "independent" sunflower - facing a direction different from the majority.
|July 18, 2016|
I stopped again the next week when white clouds dotted a
blue sky, and the yellow sunflower faces rivaled the brightness of the
|July 25, 2016|
Some people - and some sunflowers - just stand head and shoulders above the crowd.
I had another opportunity to stop, just as the sun was setting last Friday. Since it rained, Randy and I went to Hutchinson for a movie and dinner. As we left the restaurant, I knew the sunset was going to be spectacular.
By the time we drove out of town and got to Rayl's Hill, the timing was a little past the prime. And the sunflowers are definitely starting to fade, too. Later, I wished I'd moved farther down the cemetery road so I could have avoided the power lines in the photos. (Hindsight is 20-20. I was just trying to capture the light at that point.)
But, just like a bee drinking in the nectar, I was glad to drink in the beauty of a beautiful Kansas sunset, where the sunflowers seemed to capture a hint of the fading sun, too.
A Time to Think
great and small, is a parable
whereby God speaks to us,
and the art of
life is to get the message.
–Malcolm Muggeridge, journalist
(from an email devotional from Guideposts
Last year in Ritzville some Ranchers/Farmers planted a couple fields of Sunflowers. Cheri didn't know too much about it but I enjoyed seeing them. Bright fields of Sunshine. I liked your post and your sense of humor.ReplyDelete
Thanks, Mary Beth. There aren't a lot planted in our area. But there is usually at least one field planted that I can see on the route I take to Hutchinson, the town we typically go to for important things like repairs - or trips to the public library!Delete
So glad you soon very carefully trespassed. I did't notice the power lines until your comment. They are certainly sensational.ReplyDelete
I should have kept my lips sealed! Thanks, Helen!Delete
Meant to read - So glad you soooooo very........ReplyDelete
I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who hates seeing typos where they just typed and posted. I knew what you meant!Delete
There's something so cheery about sunflowers. They always make me smile. Loved your thoughts and photos! Be careful about trespassing; out here there are buffaloes beyond the fences!ReplyDelete
I saw nary a buffalo during my stroll into the field. I was probably in more danger from the bee. Keep your posts coming from the National Parks! We are enjoying them.Delete