When my daughter was younger, we used to walk up and down our road so many times, I thought our feet would fall off. She loved the idea of going on adventures and finding odds and end things on the side of the road... At one point, she had a pine cone collection that was bigger than her JoJo Bows... We would tell stories, tell jokes, and talk about the sights around us, as I carried her findings like a pack mule -usually in 90 degree heat.
One day, at 2 years old, she picked me this beautiful wild yellow flower from the side of the road.
Her eyes filled with pride, as she handed it off to me...
Still having the root attached, I decided to see if we could transplant it in our flower bed - so it could last forever, instead of a short time in a vase.
Everyday, she took her little watering can over to the limp yellow flower and sprinkled just enough water on it, so the remaining petals wouldn't fall off. She sung to it and talked to it and eagerly wanted the flower to grow beautifully.
Day by day, the flower perked. And, almost 6 years later, that one original little flower still remains somewhere among the vast amount of sprouts, that overtook my garden bed...
And all these years later, one glance at these beautiful yellow flowers, immediately transports me back to a time that seems so long ago, it's almost unrecognizable.
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