Warning- long post... my apologies...
The
Texas Highways in the springtime are littered with drivers on the lookout for
fields of
bluebonnets. Some claim the flower received its name due to the
petals’ resemblance of the bonnets that were worn by pioneer women in order to
shade themselves from the sun; others say that it was derived from the Scottish
term “Bluebonnet,” which refers to the customary blue colored Tam o’shanter
hat. Regardless of how it received the name, the title of “bluebonnet” is
common to at least five different species of North American flowers. These
genus, while in bloom from March through May, becomes a sought after sight; the
hunters of which make driving a hazardous undertaking. And while I generally
try to avoid any and all public roads of high traffic during this time, the
necessity of spending Easter with my family made travel unavoidable. Three
hours in the car, consisting entirely of avoiding the drivers as they found
their precious fields of bonnets, slammed on their brakes, and pulled their
children from the car; cameras at the ready.
Despite
the fact that it was nerve racking for the cars to stop so suddenly, I felt the
most sympathy for the little toddler who was drug out of his car seat and
plopped into the field of blues. The child’s arms would be completely straight
as the mother or father carried him to the perfect place of foot-high flowers
and lowered him into the middle. The child’s face spoke bewilderment at this
treatment, and it was clear that he had never experienced anything quite like
it before; little does he know that this will probably become routine in his
life. For, the seeking of snapshots in the vast purpled sweetness becomes a
tradition in many families across the Lone Star State.
My
family used to take yearly pictures also, but we took ours on the white sands
of Blue Mountain Beach near Destin, Florida. We would all dress in white shirts
and blue-jeans, and the pictures would turn out stunningly. I don’t think these
results were because we were necessarily great photographers, however, but
rather the pure sand and the perfect sunset lent their beauty and rendered the
pictures unique and lovely to look at. Even though we never took our pictures
in the fields of bluebonnets, it seemed that every time spring would come, the
mention of the bonneted heads emerging would make us giddy. Something about the
foot-high pioneers made us feel like summer was almost upon us. When the
bluebonnets had come out in full force we would know that another school year
was drawing to a close.
In Colorado, where my family ended up moving
while my brothers and I were still in elementary school, it is illegal to pick
the state flower, the columbine. But that didn’t stop my little brother from
picking a handful in American Basin when he was six. He didn’t realize that
just because it isn’t illegal to pick the bluebonnet in Texas doesn’t mean that
it is legal to pick any kind of flower anywhere. He was so proud when he came
up to our mom and handed her the bouquet, his face beamed as he looked up for
approval for his actions.
“For
you mommy, I picked these for you!” He declared, his little chest puffing out
as he made note of being the only one so far to make such a gesture.
“Oh
Pudd, thank-you,” Mom exclaimed as
she knelt down to give her youngest a hug. She hid her anxiety about being
fined for the flowers well, “I love them, they’re beautiful!” But still she
gave hidden admonishment as she said, “Let’s not pick anymore flowers today,
these are perfect.”
A
common urban legend is that it isn’t legal to pick bluebonnets in Texas. This
may have stemmed out of the fact that in most other states, like Colorado,
picking the state flower is in fact illegal. But it may have become urban
legend because of the illegal activities associated with bluebonnet picking,
like that of parking on the side of busy highways or trespassing onto private
property.
Before
a state flower of Texas was established, over a hundred years ago, the men in
power wanted the flower to be something business-friendly: like the cotton boll
or the cactus flower. The women, however wanted something more like the buffalo
clover. “The men being gentlemen basically ceded to the wishes of the women and
that is how the ‘bluebonnet’ became the state flower,” claims Flo Oxley,
program coordinator at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. So, on March 7,
1901, the bluebonnet species, Lupinus
subcarnosus, also known as buffalo clover, became the only type of
bluebonnet recognized as the state flower of Texas. Lupinus texensis, or the Texas bluebonnet, however, became the
favored specie of most Texans. The Texas bluebonnet has dark blue blossoms, and
blooms from March through May. Due to the remarkable popularity of this other
genus, in 1971 the Texas Legislature made every species of bluebonnet the state
flower.
While
driving down for Easter weekend I passed one setting in particular, located off
of 290 between Houston and Austin, which is especially popular for those who
love to take pictures in oceans of fragrance. It’s a private pasture, but the
owners come out and open their gates for anyone who would like to capture
memories among their thousands of capped ladies. Adding to the place is a heard
of cows, which appeals to those who have never touched a cow or lived near one
before. I feel especially sorry for the children who are dragged into this
situation. Not only do the parents take hundreds of snapshots of the toddler
sitting alone in a field of flowers taller than he is, but then they move the child
so that he’s sitting in the middle of a herd of sun-bathing cows; and the
parents are wondering why the kid is crying and unhappy by the end of the
revelry.
I
did pause somewhere outside of the little town of Chapel Hill and take in a
sight that was none other than absolutely breath taking. A pond set out in
front of a red, run down, dilapidated barn, and the ruler-length representative
of Texas covered every inch of ground beside it. I had to slow my car to a
crawl and exit off to the side to gaze at the sight I was sure I would never
see again. No family tramping through the flowers disturbed the scene, it just
sat there, untouched save for a light breeze that danced barefooted across the
pond’s surface. Not only did I take in sights of splendor such as this, but I
saw some rather comedic sights as well.
There was a girl
in a bright purple prom dress standing outside of a black Volks-Wagon Jetta.
She was obviously waiting for her mother to get the camera ready before
venturing out into the sea of permeating fragrance, which was already crawling
with at least ten other families taking pictures of their little kids and pets.
The mother stood at the trunk of the car, and it looked as though she was
trying to figure out which lens to put on the camera. She was rummaging through
her trunk, but by the time the light turned green I assume she found the lens
she wanted because she and her daughter began to walk carefully through the
revelers towards a spot in the flowers that was undisturbed by man or beast.
Seeing an older
child having her picture taken in the middle of bluebonnets brought to mind the
time my parents wanted to try to be like other Texas families upon our moving
back to Texas from Colorado. We were unable to go to the white sands of Blue
Mountain Beach that year, and my mother desperately wanted to change out the
portraits that we had taken the year we moved to Colorado. So, with my mother
wanting to update our portraits, my brother Austin, who was twenty years old at
the time, my brother David, fourteen years old, and myself, eighteen at the
time, got in the family suburban and followed my aunt, uncle, and cousins to
our substitute ocean which was about a forty-five minute drive from home.
We found the
perfect field, at least five acres of solid flowers, with a wooden white church
at the far end, and we were the only revelers there. My cousins looked perfect
sitting among the bluebonnets dressed in all white, but of course, they were
closer to the age of the majority of kids who were photographed in places such
as these, being ages three, seven, and nine. When it came time for my brothers
and I to each be individually photographed for portraits we started to laugh.
It was so ridiculous. There sat my brother, a junior in college, trying to sit
up and be serious while surrounded by thousands of bonneted flowers. He
couldn’t hold a serious face.
“Honey, don’t
smile, look serious,” Mom would try to compose him but to no avail.
“Mom, you do
realize that this is ridiculous right?” Austin made a sardonic face and tried
to pose once more, but broke down in laughter. Of course, to her it seemed less
ridiculous if all three of us sat together, so we all got together in a clump,
sat, and smiled at the camera. The ridiculousness from Austin’s solo picture didn’t
go away, however, and it ultimately ended with the three of us just goofing
off. Austin and David took to “frolicking” in the field, both jumping up and
down trying to imitate ballerinas with their hands bouncing and their heads
tilted back. The boys looked absolutely absurd as they danced through the
flora.
After this
experience in the bluebonnets, I do believe I was grateful to Lady Bird Johnson
for her involvement in convincing the government to spread bluebonnet and other
wildflower seeds along the sides of the highways throughout the state of Texas.
Whether Lady Bird, the First Lady to President Lyndon Baines Johnson, intended
for the bluebonnets to be a tribute to her or not, they serve as her legacy
with their return every spring. While this tribute is seemingly small, the
bluebonnet in its five different species, is present all over Texas, and
therefore isn’t such a small tribute after all.
The bluebonnet,
while typically deep blue in color, can sometimes undergo natural genetic
mutations which results in an albino, or white, bluebonnet. And, with some
breeding experiments performed by a few Texas A&M researchers, they were
able to create red and white strains of the bluebonnet flower. The researchers
used their red and white strains, as well as the natural blue, to create a
Texas flag out of bluebonnets for the 1986 Texas Sesquicentennial. The
tampering with the flower breeding didn’t end there, however, and the
researchers soon produced a deep maroon strain, which is the university’s
official color.
While the maroon,
red, and white strains of the bluebonnet are rarely seen, the natural deep blue
of the Texas state flower is found all over the Lone Star State. Despite the
fact that the flower only blooms for a quarter of the year on the sides of highways
or in fields, the bluebonnet can be found blooming in countless paintings,
photographs, and even songs across the state. And while maybe not every child
will grow up returning to the same field with his or her family and taking
portraits among the blue-bonneted flowers every year, most children will grow
up with some overall feeling of tolerance towards the bluebonnet. And those children who do grow up taking
portraits every year among the flowers will just have a few more stories to
tell about crazy drives, mothers searching for lens caps, and brothers
frolicking in flower-covered oceans.
Bluebonnet Pictures...
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