Back in July I loaded the boys into the van and went on a hunt for wildflowers...and a little bit of sanity. My flowerbed at home had grown scraggly and sparse, and life is a little easier to handle most days with a bouquet of fresh flowers to enjoy. And believe me, it was "one of those days". We made a stop at a fast food drive-thru for cheeseburgers before heading out of town.
We roamed gravel country roads until I spied thick patches of cheerful black-eyed Susans, fragrant pink milkweed, and large purple aster-like flowers all growing close together in a comparatively shallow part of the ditch. I parked on the side of the road and hopped out of the van with my snippers, giving the boys strict instructions to remain in the van. The baby was sleeping, and I desperately needed him to stay asleep.
I waded about five feet into the hip-high ditch grass and weeds before stopping in terror. Inches from my leg I recognized the lacy yellow flowers of the wild parsnip plant. These seemingly innocent wildflowers, resembling dill or even Queen Anne's Lace, are deceptively dangerous. They can cause a seriously painful, light-sensitive rash comparable to poison ivy.
I skirted my way around the patches of wild parsnip, and proceeded much more carefully to the harmless flowers.
I had a good bundle assembled in the crook of my arm when I noticed there were several dogs barking in the distance. I looked up over the ditch grass but couldn't see anything on the road. There was a farm place about a half mile down the road...the dogs there probably know better than to wander, or they're contained somehow, I thought. So I kept on snipping.
Eventually I realized the barking had stopped, at about the same time I figured I had enough flowers. I stood up straight and turned toward the road. My heart skipped a beat and I froze. Mere feet from my face was a massive bear-head staring at me. Oh no. St. Bernards aren't known for being aggressive. I sure hope this guy has been well loved! If this dog, who was as big as I was, wanted to kill me, he surely would have by now. Right?
As I climbed out of the ditch I held my hand out to him and talked to him in the most soothing baby-dog voice I could muster. "Hiya puppy. You hungry?" His somber expression didn't waver but he began wagging his tail and let me scratch him under the chin. It was then that I was attacked on each of my other three sides that were left undefended in my focus on the big guy. There were dogs all over me as I staggered onto the road and around the front of the van.
"PUPPIES!" was the unanimous yell from the van as I scrambled for the door handle. "Are we keeping them?"
Oh for Pete's sake. I looked down the road to see a car racing toward us, gravel dust billowing out behind it. I was going to be responsible for some poor family losing an entire pack of pets. I threw the flowers onto my seat, slammed the door, and climbed back into the parsnip-infested ditch, calling the dogs as I went. The three little ones were just puppies, or very young. They seemed to be Jack Russells, and were super cute. I could have easily slipped one in the van and smuggled it home.... I stood there instead, petting them and letting them jump all over me while the car sped past, nearly suffocating us in a cloud of dust.
After the dust settled I made my way back to the van. The persistent pups would not be deterred and they tried to smuggle themselves into the van. I'm sure there was an irresistible aroma of grease emanating from inside. I grabbed a half-eaten cheeseburger from one of the boys and pitched it into the middle of the ditch. It worked, and even the St. Bernard bounded after the flying fast food.
I hopped into the van and took off, leaving the dogs staring in confusion at the back of the van. My fingers were gloved in dried St. Bernard slobber and hair, but I had my wildflowers...and rash-free legs.
When we got home I disinfected my hands and assembled a large bouquet of the hard-earned flowers on the dining room table. Perfection. Wildflowers fit my decor style perfectly!
I awoke the next morning sneezing, stuffed up, and feeling like my throat was made of sandpaper. Definitely not perfect! I removed the bouquet to the chair on the front porch, apparently for everyone else to enjoy.
I realized later that the bouquet's proximity to the fan in the living room window contributed to my enjoyment of the flowers anyway. As I sat in the cool breeze I took a deep breath and realized it had the spicy, sun-baked herbal flower scent of a country road. Memories of long walks taken in the twilight of summer washed over me. I was home again.
I've kept this bouquet long past it's prime, long after its beauty has faded, in the spot outside the window, simply because it has retained it's enchanting peppery smell. When I'm stressed I'll sit near it and breath deeply. With closed eyes I can imagine I'm back in the peace of the country, surrounded by the beauty of nature. I feel closer to God there. Though the window has been closed for the past couple days, I can't yet bring myself to discard the decaying bouquet.
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