This is the third entry in my odd little side project, one hundred miles later. To figure out what the heck Iâ€™m doing, you can read the original entry.
One hundred miles later: 45000 – No daisies.
This 100 miles catches me on the trip home to my mom’s house, and the town I went to high school in. I went home on this exact same weekend last year, and the highway home was lined with blooming oxeye daisies. Not just a few scattered here and there, but so many it made the hills white. Thinking it would be nice to show up at mom’s door with a huge bouquet of daisies I had stopped. But struggled trying to break the woody stems off with my bare hands, and then stuck their shredded little ends in my Burger King cup full of melted ice. By the time I got to my mom’s house about two hours later, the daisies were a depressing, droopy little bouquet.
So this year I thought I’d be prepared.
Earlier in the week I spent an extra 2 dollars on milk partially because it was “all natural”, but to be honest it had more to do with the adorable old-fashioned milk bottle it came in. I saw and immediately thought, ” perfect daisy vase!”
Before I left on the trip this time, I filled the milk bottle with water, and set it and a pair of scissors on the passenger seat.
Feeling pretty happy with myself, I got to the patch of road where the daisies were last year, and nothing. Miles passed, time passed, the sun got lower and lower and lower in the sky… no daisies. I just remembered how a late freeze killed off lots of plants and trees and set others back by at least a month this year. The roads are lined with plain grass.
So at this 100 miles, I’m watching the road ditches, straining my eyes, putting off turning on my headlights because that means my interior lights will also come on and make it harder to spot some miraculous, surviving patch of oxeye daisies.
The empty vase riding shotgun looks so sad.