The Queens Anne’s Lace on my property went to seed. Its white flowers turned brown and folded upward. If you were to touch all your fingers on one hand together and hold them upright, in that center pocket, the seeds and dried flowers wave in the breeze.
The large flowering head of the, Queens Anne’s Lace can have nearly 500 tiny white flowers. Nestled deep in the center of this lacey pattern is a tiny red or purple cluster of flowers -and without my glasses I see only a black speck.
I noticed that their thin tall stems, that were so green nearly a handful of weeks ago, are now turning a brownish to blood red, making them a spectacle sight in the field, standing upright as they hold onto the last days of summer.
My dog, Uriah moves in-between them. His nose is always stuck to the ground, searching for a rabbit, mole, mouse or even a field rat. His chase between those tall thin plants keeps the sparkle in his eyes and me on my toes. Having a mouse run up my leg is not my idea of a fun time.
I stand back in shorter grass, avoiding the low sticker plants. Last week I was still brushing off the grasshoppers and crickets. I had to step carefully to avoid stepping on the toads and bowing out of the way as yellow jackets dive bomb my head in their attempt to land on my skin.
The winds have shifted to herald in the change of seasons, but for the next few days we should have a few warm hours during the day, or so the weather said this morning on the news. For now the cool air sways gently over the tops of the Queens Anne’s Lace as I walk around them.
Some people pick Queens Anne’s Lace and bring them indoors. I leave them alone. Let them wave at me as I pass and turn their white flowered heads to the sun.
Besides my husband is allergic to them, even with the windows open he knows when they start to dry out. He will start sneezing; his eyes will redden and he hurries to shut all the windows and doors. I on the other hand will pull up a chair and watch the butterflies and bees dance with those well dressed flowers…
Tiny White Flowers
By Gerardine Baugh
Walk among my waving lace
Enjoy my beauty
If I grow in the discreet field my life is as it is
When I grow as a weed I never see the beyond the ground
Seen as a craft my flowers dry and live through winter
Beauty puts me in a vase
Superstitions keep me out side
Illness keeps me in a jar waiting to help
See me through a child
Who plays in an open field
Above my waving lace
Finding my secret pattern
Within tiny white flowers
Learning to count
Then to imagine…
“A Horticulture Information article from the Wisconsin Master Gardener website, posted 14 July 2008”
“Butterflies and Dragonflies of Illinois”