Aprils’ sun rose thirty times only to fade and wash into this Red River running. Around Rocky Branch, the hillside colonies of wild blue phlox seem to be creeping away, leaving April laughing with this grand display.

Now the groves of May apples are hiding their precious flowers; the gentle breeze lifts their leaves, allowing a glimpse of these hidden secrets. And lo and behold who are those ephemeral crested dwarf irises that were dancing here earlier, and by late afternoon — gone? Now, I must head home on the first day of May with the sun descending.

But look… those delicate ferns that emerged just days ago have unfurled and are reaching up from the river’s soggy bottomland. In the panorama, they shimmer on the back-lit hillsides above the road I am on, and the mesmerizing sun is sliding into the nighttime heavens.

Star Gap darkens into a theatre for the main attraction – May’s glorious constellations. Pausing in wonderment, how could I have grown so old not knowing the righteous joys of the forest-dwelling wildflowers that lay under this vast universe of stardust? May this May bring a harder look, a desire to really see, be unshackled, set free, to search for the innocence of Eden.

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