Stop & Smell the Flowers...

As Spring is in full swing and summer is just around a corner or two, flowers are blooming and I’m fondly reminded of my childhood…seems like just yesterday…

As a youth restlessness hounded me, as did the need to seek out adventure. Who am I kidding? Restlessness still hounds me, as does my need for adventure, but as I’ve grown older, I typically stop for a moment, albeit a brief moment to contemplate the consequences of my actions.

As a youth however, the “consequence of my actions filter” malfunctioned frequently. I don’t start out looking for adventure; however deep down inside, I have the internal desire to find it or perhaps I’m unconsciously willing it to find me.

Most would think my saving grace was that I lived in a rural area and the lack of population curbed by ability to find trouble – not the case. If I couldn’t find it within spitting distance, I would simply hitch a ride to town, saddle up my ride or gas up my motorcycle. On the rare occasion, I would walk but that was a last resort – back then I didn’t like to overexert myself (hmmm – I don’t think much has changed).

I like flowers; lots of flowers. I have certain fondness for gerber daisies and lilacs, but when I was younger, I didn’t have a favorite type and could really care less about the color. I liked them all just the same, but in great numbers. Back in the day, I had a particular fondness for flowers of the spring variety. I also had an unhealthy desire to have as many flowers as I could get my hands on – literally. I now attribute my springtime flower lust on the lack of color during the long, dark, cold Canadian winters.

Occasionally, I would get the chance to visit a friend in town and may even be invited to spend the night. I perceived these chances at opportunities for adventure, not to be passed over lightly. Let’s just say while on a leisurely stroll through the neighborhood, a flower or two was picked…

I often wonder how the townspeople felt the next morning. I’m sure it felt a lot like the Grinch had strolled into the sanctuary of their homes and stolen their Christmas cheer, except that it was springtime that had been so callously swiped from their front yards and the promise of renewal robbed out from underneath of them by a redheaded devil child and her marauding friends.

Needless to say, those actions were the talk of the town for weeks to come. I fondly recall a statement made by my mother when speaking of the situation over dinner one night - “Who in their right mind would do such a thing?” If she only knew…