Stop to Smell the Flowers

I have always loved flowers, but it has taken me to get to my older years to really appreciate flowers. Recently a dear friend of mine called to tell me that the picture I sent in to our local newspaper, was published. I know it is a random picking of amateur photographers, but I was pretty excited I finally made it in the newspaper. The fields in bloom around our home are just beautiful. Like a spilled box of crayons.

Just this year hubby and I took a week trip to Knoxville, Tennessee. The local and wild flower is the daffodil. They were just blooming a bright, sunshine yellow everywhere. Funny, the school I went to taught by Nuns had us draw, grow and write an essay on daffodils, so in a way they are close to my heart. We drove in a National Park and saw a field daffodil's. I had to stop to take a picture of the flowers, no better yet I'll have Mark take one of me in a sea of yellow, this will be the money shot, I know. I carefully choose a spot not to damage any of the delicate flowers. In my mind I saw me in a field of beautiful sunshine. To get up off the ground I asked Hubby for a hand up. Holding me half way up he loses it and drops me. Not to break any of my body parts, instinct made me drop and roll. Panic! Not only is it a $500.00 fine to pick the flowers, I am now rolling in them...how embarrassing I quickly got up to pretend to any of the surrounding tourists that things never happened, perhaps I even planned that.
To make matters worse the finished picture was not clear or attractive, not at all what I visioned in my mind. I have finally learned my lesson. Now I'm older my own reflection is not my first choice of photographs I take, it is my grandchildren or scenery. Makes my heart full, and I wont be crushing anymore daffodil's.

Marigolds