The weather has turned to Summer in GriggsDakota and the loveliest of things are growing and green everywhere we look.
The old rock pile appears to be a planter for a volunteer tree in the pasture.
There was a sour cream topping on broccoli stalks as the cloud matched the form of the trees below.
The time of day turns the green grass golden with dashes of wild flowers blooming in it.
There were a few alfalfa blooms in with the grass, but fewer wild flowers than I expected.
I was fretting about the lack of flowers when I noticed the wild roses.
The joy of wild roses is their fragrance.
Surprisingly pungent, I often smell them before I see them.
The strength of their perfume is not limited by the fact that they produce a single circle of petals.
They hide in the grass, but cannot be ignored when I walk past.
Like all things of Summer in GriggsDakota, they hurry along.
Their petals last just a couple of days, then drop as the rose begins its serious work of reproduction.
Bright red rose hips will replace the scented rose blossoms quickly.
That is the theme in the story of a GriggsDakota Summer.