So there I was, gallivanting across the great outdoors with Marcy—our so-called “active recovery mission” (fancy talk for hiking with a purpose), when lo and behold, a splash of color caught my eye amidst the monotony of the earthy terrain. I stooped down, half-expecting to unearth a rogue piece of litter, perhaps a strip of plastic tape gone rogue. But then, I paused. My brain couldn’t quite make the connection; this splash didn’t seem to belong in the otherwise dormant, frost-kissed field.
After a moment, the proverbial light bulb flickered on. Holy guacamole, it was a flower! You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. Considering we’ve been living in a snow globe since just before Thanksgiving, this little bloom felt like a herald of a long-awaited thaw. My apologies to my tele-buddies—oops, I mean tele-tubbies (darn you, spring fever, you’ve got me all mixed up!). Get it? Because it’s like the end of our own wintery episode. Ha!
On a whimsical note, if this little encounter has tickled your fancy for some floral escapades, why not check out a gallery of wildflowers? It’s like nature’s own version of a rebellious art exhibit, splashing color where you least expect it. It will be updated in the future with images uploaded to this blog.
Boneshakerbike 
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