WILDFLOWERS AT HOME ( part 1 )

WILDFLOWERS AT HOME

The earliest I remember seeing wild flowers in our yard or woods was on March 17^th, 1987, when I spotted several Mayflowers blooming near our cabin.  We had very mild weather that year and with it the gift of an early spring.  Normally our wildflowers begin to appear in April but they sometimes wait until May just like the old saying, “April showers bring May flowers.”

As you look through the pages ahead you will see all the wild flowers, in the order that I saw and photographed them in the past year, on our sixty acres.  The photos were taken from early spring until late fall in the year 2013.  I’m sure I missed some flowers along the way and a few may not have bloomed this year that did in previous years.  

With each photograph I have included the location where I saw them.  For me, the search for new flowers each week was like a treasure hunt that lasted from early spring until frost ended the growing season.

I believe every wild flower is a gift, no matter how tiny they are or how short lived.  Each flower is unique in its own way and is worth appreciating, like all of nature.  We are very lucky to have so many treasures right at our doorstep!

HEPATICA or MAYFLOWER

In late April to early May we generally see a number of spring wild flowers in the yard and edges of the woods.  Mayflowers often appear before the leaves are on the trees and are usually the first spring flowers that I see.  They are white to lavender in color, sometimes even a dark purple.  Mayflowers are a welcome sign that winter is over and spring is beginning and they were the first of my flower photography adventure.

HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT

I’m lost, I’m scared, I’m traveling alone

Down a trail that’s rough and narrow.

There’s no place to turn around

But I really don’t care because

I want to get as far away from you as I can.

Up ahead I see an opening in the woods

And forlorn fields on both sides of the road.

Remembered only by the daisies that fill

Up the whole world and dance in the wind.

Daisies that used to be full of petals with answers.

But I won’t pick the daisies or timothy grass

I will let them grow and shrivel up and die.

When summer ends along the narrow road

In the forlorn field so far away from home

While I’m as far away from you as I can be.

I don’t want answers from daisy petals

Their answers are just guesses that don’t mean a thing

Like life as it goes on and on down the road

Along the field with tumbled down barb wire

Fence posts gray and weathered, leaning, crumbling.

They don’t make white oak fence posts anymore and

I don’t pick daisy petals because they don’t tell the truth.

He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me…