I don't think it would ever happen, but every year when I see this scene, I think about asking my neighbor and classmate Gary Finney if I could dig up those daffodils which seem to grow randomly in one of his fields along Selle Road.
I'm sure their history is not random. There has to be a story about how they first arrived there years, decades or even generations ago.
As a fan of daffodils in the spring, I covet the sheer amount of yellow flowers that pop up and offer a lovely roadside show every year.
Come to think of it, though, the daffodils need to stay right where they're located.
After all, they provide a special scene for hundreds of drivers who travel east or west down Selle Road every day.
So, I'll just keep pondering the idea and leave those daffodils alone.
It's best that they can continue doing their job of providing wonder and awe each spring, just like the yellow daisies which are bursting open along Sunnyside Road.
It looked to me yesterday, while driving by and stopping occasionally, that the yellow daisy spring show on hillsides with southern exposure is just beginning here in Bonner County.
I know better to ask anyone if I could dig them up and take them home because they are wildflowers and they've probably grown naturally on those hillsides along Lake Pend Oreille for centuries.
Isn't it amazing how consistent and wonderful nature can be in some situations?
Obviously, we can't say the same about weather, but the flowers and shrubs and trees that awaken each spring seem to stay on task, sometimes arriving a day or so later or even earlier, but always showing up with something wonderful to offer.
If we humans could do the same with more consistency, what a great world this could be!
The wonders of both today and yesterday which I happened to witness in my travels on foot or in the car have touched my soul with every glance.
Twas a rainy day yesterday, so wonderment came whenever the natural light changed from subdued and blah blah gray to supreme radiance.
Those droplets out of the sky helped also as they plopped in seemingly strategic places for me to come along with my camera and capture the moment.
And, the hail?
Oh, Hail, you were so pretty blending in with your crystalline appearance and brief lifespan, accentuating the grass, pods and rocks.
Even the raindrops, at times, provided some exquisite eye candy with a backdrop of light and steam rising out of the ground.
There is so much going on right now in nature that it's mighty hard to keep up with it all.
Such a wonderful contrast these wonders are providing to the long, dead winter months.
On my walk through the woods this morning with Bridie, I had my cell phone camera to capture the moments with Bill's favorite scene in nature: baby larch needles bursting from the branches with their unique greenish yellow hue which will turn golden in the fall.
Yup, Bill loves his larch, both spring and fall, and I'm sure he's taken time to study his share of new needles popping out for Spring 2022.
With all due respect to the famous Ross Hall winter scene of downtown Sandpoint taken eons ago, I'd say that it's a wonderful life here in the spring, thanks to all the images to be enjoyed without paying a penny.
Happy Wednesday.
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Which do you think Bill, the forester, loves the most? The larch needles or Bridie? Could be a tossup. |
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