I spent a lot of time this weekend in the LA-area, which means I also spent a lot of time on the road. I typically looked forward to the drive over the Grapevine, but this year the hills and hills of orange poppies were not there yet. I realized they might not make a showing this year, despite all the rain. At first I was rather disappointed at what was not there for me to see. But fortunately I got over that foolishness pretty quickly.
When I let myself view the scenery that was there in front of me, there was much to treasure. The hills are alive with verdant green grasses. White clover and yellow mustard bushes are bright along the roadside and small pockets of lupine are evident here and there. The literal grape vines are also fresh with the lime green of new growth, starting the process that will eventually bring grapes for harvesting. Small blackbirds were darting through the fields, seeking cover or maybe insects as the cars raced by. I also marveled at the clear blue skies and the white puffy clouds that marked the way. It was a gorgeous almost-summer day!
The hawks were even taking flight, playing on the winds that were keeping the drivers alert. They soared and soared, as if they were relishing spring as well. On my next trip down, I vow I will stop at some of the county gardens to see the colors and displays there. From past visits, I know that at the Arboretum, the irises—purple, white, yellow—will be in competition with the strutting peacocks showing off their tails! Fields of tulips and rows of daffodils will be blowing in the breeze at Descanso Gardens.
By the time I got home, I had remembered that Nietzsche was right: “When one has much to put in it, a day has a hundred pockets.” That is one reason I love this time of year—all of Nature’s wonders offer themselves as wondrous pebbles to pick up and tuck away in my pockets to marvel at again later. This weekend’s drive was just the nudge I needed to slow down and really see the glories around me. When I arrived home I marveled at the bushes at my own apartment complex full of lush Apache Roses, the small yellow wild rose that also perches along the Grand Canyon’s south rim. How could I have missed them earlier?