It’s that time of year. It’s the time that we parents in the Texas Hill Country do what no other parents in their right mind would do with their children.
We pull over to the side of busy highways, drag out our children from back seats who are dressed just for the occasion, and traipse them through deep weeds so we can get our coveted Texas BlueBonnet Picture while semi trucks blow by at 60 miles per hour.
Why? Because we’re sentimental around here, that’s why.
It’s been a rough two years for bluebonnet fans. The few bluebonnets that poked up during the drought in the wild were straggly loners, not suitable for photo time. Those that did manage to spring out of the parched ground for a day quickly collapsed when 14 families huddled around them for a picture.
I’ve tried many times to seed my yard with bluebonnets so I could avoid the roar of the 18 wheeler as we sit in a “field” also known as the Highway Department’s “right of way.” But those flowers must require exhaust fumes and asphalt within 20 feet to grow.
This year we headed out to our traditional spot along Hwy 306 (based on the number of trampled bluebonnets, this location is no big secret) for our big photo shoot. The flowers are stunning. Having saved up their blooms for so long, they have burst forth on the scene like second graders pouring outside for recess.
Unfortunately, it’s been at least three years since we’ve taken our pictures in the flowers and during that time there’s been a development.
Mireya is not thrilled with bugs.
Okay, a mild understatement. A tiny grass bug flew into her room the other night and we nearly had to call in the National Guard.
Needless to say, with wildflowers, there are bugs. I chose not to mention this in advance. Timing would be everything, I reasoned.
After hustling the kids into position, I managed to snap off a few pictures before Mireya high tailed it to Daddy and the shoulder of the road. Frantic brushing off of the dress followed.
The pictures are filled with that “get me out of here, there are BUGS” look on her face and a very strained smile. Not exactly the look I was going for, but one thing for sure.
It’s a Hill Country kind of memory.
(PS We are at C-1 - although I'm hauling later TODAY, so technically we're at C Day! *happy dance*)