May all of your weeds be wildflowers!

The word serendipity is defined as the faculity or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for. Does that sound like a wildflower or what?

Frank Fandrick has been a contributor to our blog since we started in 2009. I was delighted to hear from him after a trip he had made to Austin, Texas where he had taken some pictures of one of my favorite things--wildflowers! I emailed him immediately and asked if we could use them on our blog, and he graciously agreed.

What a pleasure these images are. I did some browsing on the Internet and found quotations, music lyrics and an essay that fit right in these pictures such as:

"Love is like wildflowers; It's often found in the most unlikely places.”

Or remember this song:

Hey, I’m a wildflower, growin’ in the sunshine
Soakin’ up the way of life I was raised in
Runnin’ barefoot bloomin’ in the summer shower
Ponytail dancin’, I can’t help it. I’m a wildflower.

The next image is a repeat of the first one with the addition of some Photoshop filters--looks dreamy!

Here is part of an essay called Wild Flowers, written by Richard Jeffries:
Before I had any conscious thought it was a delight to me to find wild flowers, just to see them. It was a pleasure to gather them and to take them home; a pleasure to show them to others--to keep them as long as they would live, to decorate the room with them, to arrange them carelessly with grasses, green sprays, tree-bloom--large branches of chestnut snapped off, and set by a picture perhaps. Without conscious thought of seasons and the advancing hours to light on the white wild violet, the meadow orchis, the blue veronica, the blue meadow cranesbill; feeling the warmth and delight of the increasing sun-rays, but not recognizing whence or why it was joy...the various hues of the petals pleased without any knowledge of colour-contrasts, no note even of colour except that it was bright, and the mind was made happy without consideration of those ideals and hopes afterwards associated with the azure sky above the fir-tree. A fresh footpath, a fresh flower, a fresh delight. The reeds, the grasses, the rushes--unknown and new things at every step--something always to find; no barren spot anywhere, or sameness. Every day the grass painted anew, and its green seen for the first time; not the old green, but a novel hue and spectacle, like the first view of the sea.

Add the images to a collage with some descriptive text and it is another kind of gem!


A special thank you to Frank for bringing us this breath of spring!