A Solitary Beauty
The red flower had burst forth in bloom last year, and shared her beauty with all who had an eye to behold it. As is Gaia's rule, her pollen and seeds had been shared with the wind, busy bees, and chirping birds. Under the brutal Texas sun the beautiful red flower began to gradually wilt and die. As that dying process for the flower continued the wildfires that swept through that summer destroyed acre upon acre of this beautiful hill country. One such fire was caused by a human idiot driving down the road with a lit BBQ pit in the back of his pickup on Father's Day.
But, even as she wilted in the brutal summer sun, that little red flower must have surely been smiling, because she had seen her seeds eaten by birds, and blown about by some of the harsh winds that had helped fan the flames of those wildfires. That little red flower knew if all went as Mother Nature planned, some of those seeds would one day become other beautiful red flowers.
It would be the next spring before anyone would know exactly when, and where those seeds would spring up. Most of the seeds that survived would spring up nearby the plant that had given birth to them. They in turn would follow Mother Nature's plan, and reproduce their kind. If left to their own devices, they would create a stand, then perhaps one day a field of beautiful little red flowers.
Some seeds however would not be such home bodies. They would really go places sailing along with the wind, or flying in a bird's fat belly. Some of those seeds would spring up in some unlikely places. One such seed, probably in the belly of a bird, finally settled on a spot on the entrance road of a beautiful place called Kreutzberg Canyon Natural Area. All winter long that solitary little seed would lay dormant. Fortunately, the winter was a mild one. So mild, that even as early as February the showers we had been getting brought forth a springtime bloom to the hill country.
More rains during March really got things going in the beautiful natural world that is this hill country. Creeks that had not seen water in a couple of years were now running. And the Guadalupe, that life giving ribbon of beautiful water that winds through this hill country, was flowing fast and furious at times. Lush landscapes were everywhere the eye looked. The grass was so thick and green, rumor had it some cows ate themselves to death. Trees that had come close to being kindling last summer, were now starting to unfurl bright green leaves. And flowers were blooming all over! Bluebonnets, Indian Paintbrushes, and a host of other flowers lined the roadsides.
Along that one certain roadside, a certain little seed sprang up. Fed, watered, and warmed by the sunshine, it grew into a beautiful little red flower. That beautiful little red flower sat all alone on the side of that road. Oh there were other flowers around it, but it was the only one of its kind in that spot. Did it sit wondering perhaps if someone would drive by behold its beauty? Or go off the road too much admiring the view all around, and smash it to a small red pulp?
If that little red flower did wonder that, then on a beautiful Saturday afternoon it received its answer when I beheld the beauty of that little red flower as Mr. Grinch was taking me into the park so I could go for a hike. Fortunately, Mr. Grinch did not go off the road as he admired the view all around us, and leave that little red flower nothing but a little red pulp.
I saw no more red flowers like that one on that 3.2 mile meandering hike I took, so snapped a pic of the one by the roadside as we left after my hike. I shared that pic via Face Book, and it appears that beautiful little red flower is a lone poppy. After reading some of the comments about the picture I took of that flower, Morris, my maniacal little blue muse inspired me to write the little story I just did.
I hope all who read this story, and beheld the beauty of that solitary little red flower, enjoyed both the story, and the picture. I know that stumbling upon that little red flower, then taking that photo and sharing it with others has been a truly enjoyable, and very inspiring experience for me and the muse.
I am left wondering if perhaps one day in the future other little red flowers like that will pop up in that beautiful place called Kreutzberg Canyon Natural Area. Did Gaia bless me with witnessing, and actually photographing the beginning of those flowers becoming a part of that park? No matter what happens to that one little red flower, I must say here and now, "Thank you Gaia, Great Goddess of Our Earth, for blessing me with such a truly awesome, and in many ways, very humbling experience. Through that one little red flower I have learned what one little seed can do when You are left to Your own sometimes precocious devices."
I am putting this story about the little red flower in my Word Garden section of my website, and invite anyone who drops by and reads this story to write a story of their own about the little red flower, and submit your story of 1000 words or less to me by emailing it to firstname.lastname@example.org with the Subject Heading: Word Garden Submission.