A tear in the fabric of civilization reveals a wild spirit.
A dormant seed waits through cold and lengthening shadows for its opportunity. The right season settles in, and the seed pushes through grains of earth like someone making a path through a crowd.
It festers like a thought, known only to itself at first. But soon, under the eye of the sun, it grows forth, revealing itself. The colors spread like a flash flood upon meadows. They burst among gravestones, bringing new life to silent memories. They rush along highways, traveling as fast as digital information.
Our roaming photographer captures scenic bluebonnets every spring. Last weekend, a torn flag fluttering in fierce winds at a gravesite provided the perfect frame for the picture perfect wildflowers.
Beneath the forces of control, chance finds strength.