The plant had gotten so big that it overshadowed the Cape honeysuckle planted in the ground beside it, so I decided to move the poppies about 6″ to the right and a quarter turn. No biggie. Just to give my honeysuckle more breathing room.
Within minutes, not hours, the whole plant sighed and sank. It looked like it was dying. It went from vibrancy to pathetic in literally minutes! I have never seen anything like it. Who knew that such a small, insignificant move could destroy the spirit of such a glorious display, and yet . . .
We are moving. A much bigger move! I am not wilting just yet, but I am exhausted and really tired of the tension of the process. I am hoping my poppy pot is not a future metaphor for my reaction to such a radical change at my age. Maybe moving more than 6″ is key. I will survive it.
W-aiting, at the mercy of
A-nxious thoughts that devise any and every
I-mpossible roadblock to success, many of which
T-ime and patience will unseat; but yet
I- allow my mind to spin and spin,
N-ot trusting, not resting in a
G-od who is not shaken by my circumstance.
We are experiencing what is called a superbloom here–wildflowers galore. And so of course, I needed to go get pics.
We followed this innocent looking path into the fields. Okay, it was one car width wide, but we were only one car, right? There were amazing sites back in the off-roading beyond, and we had fun with many oohs and ahs. Met a couple from Ventura, CA, who insisted they take our picture for posterity. They, it might be noted, had a big truck.
We were fine until our path-road turned to waves and humps of silty sand. We kept ploughing through–literally–all the time wondering if AAA would rescue us out here. And could they even find us. We prayed and kept driving, shaving off the middle of the trail with our under-carriage, swerving now and then as our trusty tires desperately sought to find grip. We breathed a sigh of relief when the road firmed up again; but then, we held our breath as the bottom sunk out from below us once more.
Amazing! Amid screams and jolts (The screams were not from me but from the grit caught in the tire wells, I assume.), we managed to see civilization in the form of Ave. D.
It took us about 10 miles before sand stopped coming out from under our vehicle on every breaking, stopping, and turning.
Bless our wee Honda and the mighty Lord of not only wildflowers, but also of wily seniors who insist on venturing into the unknown.
Not this year, but it was a great poppy year last year!