the muppets of the flower world

Over the weekend Robert and I moseyed on down to Arkansas for a bit of hiking and relaxing (Rachel was exploring Mackinac Island with Robert's mom, Audrey and their grandma, Carolyne).  Due to a heat advisory, we weren't sure how much hiking we could manage.  Because of this, Robert decided to look into motels that would take Ella, and so at the very last minute she was loaded into the car with her wagon.  

We hiked a bit, swam in the motel pool, and drove around exploring a handful of towns.  It was very relaxing.  

These are my favorite pictures from the trip!

We've been wheeling Ella around our neighborhood with great success so we've been eager to go even further.  Robert ever so carefully eased her down the massive hill towards the trail and I hovered nearby, ready to calm Ella in case she panicked.  But she was happily oblivious to the amount of effort it took to get her silly butt down the hill.  She just kept the same pleasant grin on her face the whole way down.



Once we made it down the hill it was smooth sailing.



While we were driving to Arkansas, Robert asked me what wildflowers I hoped to see.  My response was immediate.  Sensitive Briar.  It's my favorite wildflower and May is the perfect month to spot it. We were maybe five minutes into hiking and there it was in plain sight.  I couldn't help myself.  I flipped shit.  Even Robert was blown away by how fast we found it.  It really felt like it found us.  Even better, it was tangled with a rather large blackberry bush that had several ripe berries. 

I love sensitive briar because of their most obvious trait, a trait I very much relate to.  When touched, their leaves fold up.  It's a bit of wildflower magic. And because of their flashy flowers, it's such a delight to discover they're sensitive. They are the muppets of the flower world. 



Once we explored the paved section of the trail, Robert did a very sweet thing.  He said he would hang back with Ella so I could explore the unpaved section.  It was beautiful and dark inside the woods.  The sunlight could barely get through the trees.  Unfortunately it felt like I was walking through a giant spiderweb.  I waved a giant stick in front of me, which helped some, but after a large green spider zipped down into my face I gave up and turned around.  I did manage to snap a picture of a wild petunia before I left.  

  

Robert found a bookstore to explore, and though most of their material was outdated, I enjoyed browsing the shelves and shelves of National Geographic magazines perfectly organized by date.  The earliest year I could find was 1923 and they ended in the 90s.  This National Geographic discovery comes at an interesting time for me.  I recently finished a book called, "Stranger in the Woods," about the man, Chris Knight, who disappeared in Maine and lived in the woods, undetected for 27 years.  In this book he talked about how much he despised National Geographic because they exploit people's private moments. When I read that a silent damn exploded in my mind.  He's right, and as a reader of National Geographic, I have been haunted by his words.  As I browsed almost 70 years of National Geographic, his words chilled me even more.  Though there are some extraordinary stories in issues I can recognize at a glance, having almost 70 years of this magazine at my disposal definitely put Knight's words into perspective.