A Field of Flowers

Posted by on Jun 21, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

This morning I drove my cousin Phyllis to the airport in Charlotte so she could return home to Kansas. I’m going to miss her. I did my best to convince her to stay, but she seemed intent on getting home.

We left early this morning and enjoyed the drive; it’s a beautiful time of year here in the Carolinas.

One of my favorite things about the scenery here are the flowers in the medians. At some point in the past the locals planted patches of flowers in medians and along the edges of the roads. You will be driving along and all of a sudden there is a mass of yellow, red, purple, or pink flowers. It’s breathtaking.

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As Phyllis pointed out it is also practical since it cuts down on the area needing mowed. I focus on the breathtaking part though.

My eyes soak up the glorious colors and I dream of planting some in my garden.

I couldn’t help but think this morning of our recent trip out to the site of the sod house in the Sandhills of Nebraska.

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Other than the grove my great-grandpa’s family planted and a windmill there isn’t anything left in that valley. Nothing but prairie grass, cow manure, and wildflowers. I couldn’t help but wonder if Grandma picked some of those wildflowers for her sod house. I would have.

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Maybe in the morning she got up and went outside with her little boys. Maybe she walked over the hills and collected the flowers into a bunch, carried them to the house, and put them in a mason jar on the table.

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Maybe her little boys picked some for their mommy while they were outside playing.

I know they picked “cow chips” for fuel, but maybe once in awhile they picked something that smelled better!

The few flowers we spotted in that vast valley hardly compare in beauty to the mass along the road. But, I couldn’t help but think that my grandma probably enjoyed them more, especially after the long winters in that tiny sod house. It’s all in your perspective, isn’t it?

Good Old Days