Tuesday, April 8, 2014
They paint the fields with a wave of color and fill the air with their sweet fragrance. Their appearance is anticipated as soon as spring whispers her arrival on a gentle breeze. Almost overnight a wave of color washes over the fields, spilling over onto verges and lawns. The air fills with their sweet perfume, and we rush to grab our cameras in a vain attempt to fully capture their beauty.
Our ordinary drive down a country road becomes a visit to an outdoor art museum as one spectacular scene after another is framed in the open car window. Now there are splashes of yellow, pink, red and orange mingled with the blue as the days grow warmer.
We drive slowly, and I see something I hadn't noticed before. Set far back from the road, nearly hidden by the old rock wall and surrounding trees, a gentle pool of blue sits quietly in the morning sun. Soon they are lost to sight.
I think about them, blooming far from view in that secluded place, every bit as beautiful as their sisters, yet receiving none of the glory. It didn't seem to bother them that no children sat among them while their parents clicked away hoping for the perfect picture. They simply bloomed right where they were, just as they were.
They were not diminished in their quiet place. For those who happened to see, and for those who never noticed, they were beautiful.