My heart skips a beat when I see wildflowers. Doesn't matter if they're gracing the ditch of an interstate, or covering a grassy meadow, or peeking through the crack of the sidewalk. They can be dandelions, daisy fleabane, clover or alfalfa, evening primrose...there's no difference. Wildflowers are magical. I sometimes think I like them so much because they just grow so wildly without a care in the world. No wonder-working green thumb gardener cultivates them. No one bothers to water or fertilize them. And yet their beauty astounds the beholder. You know what else I like? That so often people don't even know their names or that they exist, and yet they keep on growing...giving glory to their Creator. On display for him if for no one else. And when the wanderer happens upon them, they are graced with the gentle surprise of their beauty.
In Wisconsin camping with my husband recently, I had the chance to steal some photos of these beauties. Of course the photos don't do them justice, but they try.
Another reason I love wildflowers: they grow in natural bouquet combinations. No one arranges them but the wind and the birds that drop their seeds. Yet so pretty and whimsical are the arrangements.
A rather random patch of spearmint growing beside the creek! Delightful find!
The familiar Daisy Fleabane (below) brought me extra joy with its familiarity. As much as I miss my Kansas wildflowers at least there were some of the same in the northwoods!