15 June 2009

Favorite Things - June 15

My goodness, hasn't it been a long time since I have had a favorite thing. Seems that as soon as the weather turned nice, my poor old blog got kicked to the curb. Funny how a good run of sunny days can do that. Sorry, Blog, I will pay you some attention this morning.

So, to the point.... my favorite thing today is - Wildflowers.

I love that wildflowers don't conform to order. They grow wherever the wind takes their teeny seeds. There are no strictly planted rows. They care not whether their colours complement one another (but, oh, don't they just always seem to look wonderful together). They age gracefully, not caring that they have grown wilted, straggly, bushy, or lopsided.

I have a deep admiration for the wildflowers will to grow, survive and thrive. The tiniest crack in a sidewalk can be a future backdrop for a pretty bloom. They can creep out of sheer rockfaces, or maintain a shallow and tenuous hold in sifting sands. Such tenacity. Cultivated flowers, by contrast, crave kid-glove kindness.

My earliest memories, involve images of sunny daisies, cheery black-eyed Susans, frizzy Queen Anne's Lace, sweet scented clover flowers, and the ubiquitous dandelion. We would collect armloads of these and bring them home to Mom, invariably sticky and stained with dandelion milk.



As I have been spending loads of time outdoors lately, I have been revelling in all the summery goodness of New Brunswick, and admiring all the beautiful blooms that have erupted throughout the forests, beachscapes and roadsides.



My latest favorite is the lupin. These don't grow in Ontario, where I grew up, and I have quickly become infatuated with the heavy blooms. They grow in waves of purple and blue, pink and white. What a treat to be zooming along the highway and see this great splash of colour in your periphereal vision. Yesterday I stopped and snatched up a bunch to bring home. They now add a cherry brightness to my bland little bathroom.




I know that as the summer rolls along, I will be treated to new delights. I await with bated breath the arrival of the eruption of the profusion of wild roses that grow along the shore.