Sunrise Sunflower Scuttle
Posted by Dr. Judy at 4:38 pm
© 2010 Dr. Judy Krings
I knew it was a stupid thing to do, and usually I’m not a big risk-taker, but I knew Mom would love to see this photo. I’d be careful not to tumble, as the angle at sunrise gave me a scant one foot platform to perform. The risk to get the rising sun shining on the perfect pedals was worth it. I’d do anything to make Mom smile.
Early in summer, I’d lovingly planted many red sunflower seeds generously gifted to me by my friend, Annie. In smiling anticipation, I joyfully hauled water down to the edge of our Lake Michigan cliff. Alas, only one hardy plant snubbed it’s nose at her threatening, wildly windy perch. Tenaciously tumbling her branches, in all her glory, she stood tall. Her baby buds gave way to one robust red and yellow blossom.
I had to capture her progeny. Gingerly, and mindful of my mission, I began clicking away. Got some great shots, too, until I didn’t!
Bet you know what I’m going to tell you. I fought the precipice, and the precipice won! What a sight I must have been. Six a.m., and me in my leather-soled woolen slipper socks and a brightly knee-length multi-colored, pastel fluffy chenille robe. I’m not sure how many times I somersaulted down the rain-slicked steep hill, but I finally sprawled to a stop. Proud of myself, I hadn’t let go of my camera! I laughed my butt off thinking what undignified me must have looked like. A colorful clown tumbleweed! Luckily, a huge pile of branches I’d trimmed off earlier in the summer provided my safety net, albeit a muddy, prickly one.
What’s the learning? To tell Ken where I’m going first. With Mom and Sean both in the ER, ICU, and inpatients on the same days in different states, Ken didn’t need to have a third family member on the mend. (They are recovering, thanks for sending your love.)
A grateful grin greets me when I see my few bruises and scraps. Move over Indiana Jones. More adventures await.
How’s your risk taking? When’s the last time you decided to go for the gold?
What’s holding you back? Wherever you leap, I hope you have someone watching your back.
You’re irreplaceable.
